By The Morning Light
by Nefarie Demens
Summary: A plethora of canons and originals all thrown together in a discordant mess. Governmental overthrow, adventure, mercenaries, corruption. Peaking your interest? Good.
1. Chapter 1

This was written on a whim after seeing an old RP buddy promoted to fanfiction mod on a Harry Potter site. That should explain the excessive originals (old RP characters). A couple exceptions to the originals being mine are her characters, but all are used with permission. Any lyrics are used strictly for motivational purposes. This is the less censored version, but it's not rated X, obviously.

* * *

Say so long to innocence,  
from underneath the evidence;  
you taste like Heaven,  
but God knows you're built for sin.

Built For Sin, _Framing Hanley_

_There was something in the darkness, and a young girl pulled the covers up to her chin. Her heart was racing, her body shaking. Her brackish green eyes had gone wide with fright, and her face, round with her young age, was taut. Her lips drew a deep breath into her lungs where she held it; fear was meaningless. Fear only brought pain and shame, and she hated the both of those feelings. Her little fists tightened as though she could crush the thought of them, maybe even crush the emotions entirely if she tried hard enough. The door pushed open as she heard a struggle; a body fell into her room. Before she knew it, she was standing on her bed_, _trembling, and a deep voice gave a sour laugh._

_"You're still so weak," the voice taunted, and the child leapt off the bed and rolled over to the side of the bed, clawing for something, anything. The hand reached forward, grabbing the girl by the scruff of the neck like she was merely a ragdoll kitten. She squeaked in sudden pain as she was thrown across the room. She landed in a lump against the wall, raising her head to meet the man's. "Your mother's been wondering about you, if you've improved. She's been so worried that you'd grow soft in this environment." The man strode forward, and the girl's hands pressed behind her back, gripping the wood framing along the floor, a piece of it coming loose. "I'd have to say that I agree." _

_The girl pulled the wood off, and in one fluid motion, dug the sharp end into the man's leg. He howled in angry agony, pulling a wand out from his cloak pocket. "**Crucio**!" he shouted, and the girl crumpled to the ground once more, but she bit through her lip to keep from screaming. She could feel the blood filling her mouth, the coppery, salty taste. The wound was pulsing in pain. He ripped the wood out of his own leg and then murmured a healing spell. "You failed us, child. As I always thought you would. You are nothing to us. I suggest that you resort your priorities and make something of yourself while you still can, or you will not call us your parents."_

* * *

Evlyn Fauve sat back in her expensive, black leather chair, looking out over the grounds below the room in which she sat. There were acres of rolling hills, playing a beautifullly misconceiving role in expressing the grounds on which they lay. After all, they were the property of the dark wizards who had built and ran this very building. The Dark Lord had fallen so many years before, and yet his legacy still remained. Another dark wizard had taken his place, and the girl had done what she could to get into his good graces. They had said it was improbable, that a child still attending Hogwarts could become apart of his inner circle, but she had accomplished it. The thought brought a small smirk to her lips as she twirled her wand in her hand.

It was pleasant looking, her wand, almost peaceful. Its wood was polished carefully and painted a dark color. Despite its seemingly tranquil appearance, it had wreaked more havoc than any girl at the age of eighteen should have been responsible for. She felt no remorse for what she did, and what was more was that she felt...contempt. That silly Harry Potter thought that through all his sacrifice and strife, he could abolish evil wizardry. The problem with that was that he only destroyed it in one form, and that form was Lord Voldemort. Evil was apart of every human being's nature, and Evlyn knew this well enough.

It barely mattered to her what happened to all the witches and wizards that stood in their way. They were morons, blinded by some delusion that good could actually exist. She smiled to herself without any sincere humor. After all, there would be no good without evil, and how deluded did you _really_ have to be to think that people were actually good? Evlyn's expression twisted to one of disgust to accompany her thoughts. No one had shown her anything sincere, not even when they _thought_ they were being sincere. People were pests, like a disease let loose upon the Earth. Muggles, mudbloods, witches, wizards. At least she was on the winning end with her company. At least the people she surrounded herself with didn't try to pretend they were anything different than what they truly were...

In front of her was a book, a book whose cover was worn with all the times she had read it, over and over. Someone once asked her how she could read that mudblood-written-filth, and she replied that the character wasn't even human, nor did he like anyone or anything. It was 'Grendel,' and she loved the bestial character more than any sane human being _should_, but it was far worse that she actually identified with the character. It wasn't as if she hadn't tried in the past to...make nice. In fact, she had once tried to be a good person. Unfortunately for everyone around her, that really hadn't gotten her far.

She suddenly heard a ruckus from the hall, some shouting, screaming, and she stood up suddenly, walking forward aggressively with her wand-arm out-stretched. What sort of _idiot_ would even _think_ about invading these border-line military barracks? It was filled to the brim with dark wizards, and she wasn't something to be taken lightly herself. The door came crashing down, and she had to leap backwards to get out of the way. Once the door was down, the protective spells were broken and two hooded figures apparated on either side of her, grabbing each of her arms in a vice-like grip. She tried to pull violently away, and hexed every inch of anything she could point her wand at, and soon the wooden floor-boards were alight with crimson and gold flames, dancing destructively all over the expensive oriental carpeting.

"You wouldn't _really_ burn down your own...what is this place, anyway? Your office of death and destruction?" came a mocking voice from under one of the hoods, his grip on her arm preventing her from doing any damage to him, and so she settled on stopping her blind attack...for now.

"Do you _ever_ shut up, Runner?" came a snide voice from under the other. "That...wasn't even witty. You're losing your touch," it commented dryly.

Evlyn's body suddenly went slack as she gave up her struggle. She twisted in the direction of the snide one. "Any chance of letting me go? If you get out now, you might not have to face the new Dark Lord. He'll kill you. Well... that's not the bad part, actually. Ripping you limb from limb and tearing you to little bits and pieces is the horrid part," she said, sounding more amused than horrified, and it was all too obvious that she would enjoy doing it. Although she couldn't see the two's faces, they exchanged looks from beneath their hoods and seemed to simultaneously agree on one thing:

To get this pathetic twisted brat out of here before they had to deal with her any longer. The two disapparated in unison, and Evlyn felt the wretched feeling of someone jerking her backwards by hook behind her nasal passages.

Evlyn felt her feet collide with ground, and she braced herself from falling. She gritted her teeth, refraining from opening her eyes right away. The one quickly pulled her wand out from her hand as she was struggling to compose herself. Not all the dark wizard training in the world... "Do you even _know_ who I am?" she hissed, her eyes still practically wrenched shut, because she knew that if she saw the two before getting a grip on herself, she would do something very stupid that would undoubtedly land herself in a worse position than she was already in.

"No," said the one, heavy sarcasm practically poured into his voice, and Evlyn opened her eyes at long last. He was removing his hood, revealing shaggy brown hair, emerald-green eyes, and a casually handsome face. "We just blindly kidnap people because it gives us a big kick. Especially when those people happen to be hard at work devising new ways to torture innocent muggles and half-bloods. Isn't that right, Blaine?"

The other removed his hood, carefully smoothing out his sleek blond hair. He, on the other hand, was not casually handsome; he was outright striking. He scoffed slightly at the other, but addressed Evlyn with cold gray eyes. "Yeah. It's also an added plus when we get to fight and kill our way through countless dark wizards," he chipped in dryly. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then added, "Oh, and I wouldn't try to disapparate. Theo over here already slapped a bracelet on you for that. It's a fairly powerful charm that I highly doubt you can break."

Evlyn looked down at her wrist, some black substance composed a bangle, various stones and symbols wrapping around its outside. "Well, at least it's not tacky," she murmured, her eyes flicking back up at them. She didn't seem to give a care when he said that he killed the others in the beginning, and her expression didn't even shift in the most minute fashions. She was completely stoic and unaffected. "So, who'd you kill?" she asked, just as simply as though she were inquiring about the weather. Who they were able to take down would give her a better idea of what they were capable of.

The blond one, Blaine, looked sincerely amused for the first time, and Theo Runner, or whatever his name was, was practically doubled over in laughter. Her eyes narrowed at them. "Well, we didn't exactly stop to ask their names, if you get my drift."

Theo composed himself and looked up, still grinning, if a bit devilishly. He looked at Blaine with a sudden betrayed look as though he had been lied to. "I thought you said she was smart or something." He turned his attention back Evlyn, "Did the Dark Lord throw you head first into a rock at any time during your service?" he intoned with offensive bemusement. Although she did not give a damn _about_ the Dark Lord, she did not quite like how he vocalized his title. He made it sound...trivial.

Hogwarts...

Something snapped into place at that. She brightened up considerably, like the Devil receiving a particularly dangerous and horrendous gift. "_You_," she breathed with the air of one genuinely pleased. "You were Malfoy's son. You got sorted into Gryffindor. I _remember_ you now. You were older than me, but- Everyone in Slytherin talked about it. Nothing like that had happened since Sirius Black. I bet your dad can't even stand the sight of you," she finished with relish.

"He disowned me when I was fifteen, but thanks for the concern," he remarked, unaffected by her ill-meant words. If Evlyn was disdainful, he was fully disgusted. "But I guess the same goes for you, huh? I hear the Fauves are pretty decent people."

Evlyn stiffened considerably. "Mum and Dad were sweethearts," she replied sweetly, but something in her eyes said she wanted to rip their throats out. She paused, taking a deep breath and shutting her eyes, arching her back and stretching her arms up above her head in a bored manner. "Anyway, you don't even know what you've just done. The new Dark Lord will have your heads on pikes. _That_ you can be sure of."

"Terrified," the boy called Theo Runner commented sarcastically. "I'm about to piss my pants over here."

Evlyn shook her head, her teeth gritted together as she suddenly snapped forward violently, her index finger pointing at them as if they'd made some unforgivable, horrible mistake. "I've headed mass-slaughters. I have _personally_ tortured those who have posed a danger to the aims of the Dark Lord himse-"

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for that," Blaine replied with a blasé sort of air, rolling his eyes at her as though she were a child whining about some petty predicament being unfair. "That's why we kidnapped you, actually. But thanks for confessing. It definitely makes our lives easier."

"Anyway," Theo began with a bright expression, and an equally bright tone, but something that belied his voice was much darker, "sorry to intrude on your melodrama, but it'll only get worse. Pretty soon, your dear master will be the one with his head on a pike."

Evlyn nearly rolled her eyes, but batted her eyelashes at the brown-haired boy instead. "Honestly? I don't give a mudblood on a _broom_. I abhor the human race, and he's just the one powerful enough to let me do what I want. It's personal vengeance; I'm not some chauvinistic psycho who leapt on the bandwagon," she replied with a sickeningly sweet tone, like being force fed too much arsenic-laced chocolate.

"I'm...sorry to hear that. Well," Theo paused, rolling up the sleeve of his black button-up shirt to take a quick glance at his watch, "we better get walking if we don't want to, you know, get eaten and all."

"And what makes you think I'm going to willingly walk to wherever you're planning to take me?" Evlyn replied, one eyebrow arched. Although getting eaten was a pretty plausible deterrent, she highly doubted they would just leave her after going through all the hassle to retrieve her in the first place.

Theo laughed harshly, smirking a little when he turned back around to look at her. "_What_ did I _just_ say about getting eaten?"

She glared at him. "I think you value your own lives more than I value mine," she responded, no emotion in her voice, only a more sinister smirk playing behind her features. She suddenly felt something prod into her back- Blaine's wand.

"How about this, Fauve," he intoned coldly into her ear, "We're armed and you're not. And I can assure you, death isn't the thing you should be worried about when you're accompanied by two highly paid mercenaries. Not all inheritance is in fortunes, and though I was disowned from that aspect, I can assure you I've inherited far too much from my grandfather."

"Fair enough," she responded apathetically, shrugging away from his close proximity.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Theo continued, shooting Blaine a grin as he began walking. "Let's get on then."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Disclaimer: I don't own any canons and blah blah blah. Lyrics are used to motivate me and nothing else.

_Skip a life completely;  
stuff it in a cup.  
She said, "Money is like us in time,  
It lies, but can't stand up.  
Down for you is up."  
Linger on, your pale blue eyes.  
Linger on, your pale blue eyes._

Pale Blue Eyes, _The Velvet Underground_

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Evlyn was 12 years old and sitting in a room filled with Abercrombie and Ugg-clad preteens. Her parents had went missing, and so she was temporarily placed in foster care, and now she was condemned to being surrounded by muggle children and dealing with muggle school. The classes were filled with useless nonsense she would never need to know; everyone with half a brain already knew the basis of muggle history. She already knew how to articulate grammatically correct sentences, both while she was speaking and writing. These schools did not teach her how to defend herself, and the most life-lessons she learned had nothing to do with academics.

"Why do you always dress like that?" one girl asked, placing her lunch tray across from Evlyn's where she sat, alone. She forced a smile at the girl and her two friends, but bit her tongue against her vicious retort.

Instead, she said, "What do you mean?" with a faux innocently ignorant sort of tone.

"You always just wear black tank tops and jeans. Why don't you dress like us? Or hang out with the cool kids?" she asked, now averting Evlyn's gaze and picking up a french fry.

"Don't eat that," her friend chimed in with a look of concern. "It's been deep fried. Do you know how many calories are in that?" Evlyn's eyebrows shot up when she looked at them. Muggles were so shallow and stupid. She had a wretched urge to set one of them on fire, set light to their stupid overpriced polos and watch while they were too panicked to figure out how to get it out...

"Yeah," her other friend added, her eyebrows knitted together with a look of anxiousness. "If you gain weight, then we won't _all_ be able to fit in a size 0 anymore."

Evlyn smirked, her one eyebrow raised. "Why are you worried about gaining a pant size? It's not like guys are going to care. Not to be harsh, but they're not exactly exclusive."

The one completely ignored her words, the french-fry dropped from her hand as she pushed her tray away in front of her with a look of disgust. "So, why?"

"Alice...," she began, her voice somewhat pained. She wanted to do something really awful to make the girl shut up and leave her alone forever. Something that involved blood and pain. "Go stick your finger down your throat. Then you can have all the french fries you want, love."

The three all shared a simultaneous offended look and stood up. As they passed, they emptied their trays in the garbage can as they went. _Good,_ she thought viciously. _I hope you die from your stupidity soon._ But that wasn't what she really wanted. She wanted to be the cause of their pain and misery, make them feel what she was beginning to not feel any more. She had once thought that she'd like to forget those feelings, to not feel them anymore, but more and more she was saying horrible things just because she liked to _see_ the emotion.

* * *

When Evlyn woke up, it was too bright to see anything, but soon the violent white faded into a peaceful, clear blue. The sky was void of any clouds, and off to the corner of her eye, the sun shone brightly, a fiery blaze of gases and heat lighting up the world so they didn't have to live in darkness, even when they did. She turned on her side, curling up into a ball against the morning light. Everything felt worse to her when the weather was nice, and so she wrenched her eyes shut, her head resting on her hands, her fingers digging into the baby-grass, colored a mint-green from the thin layer of dew and early sunlight.

"Morning, sunshine," a voice called over to her, a tad bit preoccupied, and then she noticed the smell of burning wood, of smoke lingering in the cool, crisp air. She sat up and stretched, looking over to him. It was Theo, and Blaine was missing.

"Hey," she said, standing up and walking over. "So I guess we didn't get eaten..." She began, letting her voice drift off, an amused note evident in her bitterness.

"Nope," he began. "But we're past that. Now, it's not _those _monsters, werewolves, and vampires you have to worry about." He looked up at her and grinned. "Anyway," he said with a deep breath, pointing his spatula at the various pans over the dwindling fire, "the eggs are nearly done, and the bacon will be done in a bit. It's really salted and kind of disgusting, actually, but they needed to give us stuff that would last."

She shrugged, sitting on a log across from him. "I wouldn't have eaten it anyway. I'm a vegetarian."

A look of shock passed over Theo's face as he laughed. He composed himself, feigning a look of seriousness. "Well, that was unexpected. Do you eat children instead?"

Evlyn raised an eyebrow. "...No, actually. And it shouldn't be. After all, Hitler was a vegetarian." She tapped her fingers on her thighs, glancing up at him every so often as she stared at the fire.

"He was, wasn't he?" he responded, sounding a little more than a bit amused, but it was grudging. "So what else do you know about muggle history? I thought muggle-haters would resent looking at that sort of thing."

"I grew up in foster-care, actually," she said, her gaze now unwavering from his. Green eyes against green eyes, varying only in shades. Theo's were pure, unpolluted, but Evlyn's bordered on hazel. How stupidly naive of him to think that hate came from nowhere... Of course, she didn't discriminate. She wasn't _that_ weak of mind, but she did hate everyone for their nature. "You? You obviously know a bit about muggle-culture," she replied, muggle coming out of her mouth like a dirty word.

"Foster care," he reiterated, glancing up at her. "Was it rough?" he asked, then looked at her with a bitter smile, his eyes somewhere distant and cold. "I'm a half-blood. I never went to Hogwarts. My dad was a bit of a zealot- _and_ he was a muggle. They call them 'hunters,' and he pretty much raised me to do what he did. Kill anything that wasn't natural. So, exactly what you do for fun!" he finished with a mock-excited air, clapping his hands together, and a moment later his expression fell to one of resentment.

Evlyn ignored his first question. "Fuck yourself," she replied with a scoff, an unfriendly smile playing across her face. "You chose to do it just like I did, and to say that you didn't have a choice would be bullshit. After all, you're still a killer. You already admitted to killing your way through all those people to get to me. Like it or not, you're still a sociopath. There's no difference between us."

He looked faintly angered for a brief moment, and Evlyn felt contemptuous with that, but he recovered to his calmly mocking disposition quite impressively. "Maybe. You're right; we're both killers, but only one of us is a full-blown sociopath. I have my tendencies, but you chose and continue to choose to be a cold-blooded murderer."

The girl arched an eyebrow curiously, not paying much mind to his words. "You ever tortured anyone?" she asked, without any tone or jab, with only honest curiosity.

"When I needed to. If they deserved it," he said to her through his teeth, smiling at her serenely, but his eyes looked like they had darkened in an almost feral sort of way.

"What are you, like some sort of anti-hero? At least you're not some self-righteous, unwavering Superman kind of guy. You know, I think I could really get into the tormented, ruthless sort of hero," she wheedled with a sly grin.

"I'm not a hero, and I don't intend to ever be one. I do a job, I get paid for it. But why is it, I wonder, that you haven't tried to kill us in our sleep yet?"

"Well, like your friend said," she began sweetly. After all, this was the real world, and good didn't always prevail. Sometimes the villains won. That was something she was counting on. "You're armed. I'm not."

"Wise of you," came a cool voice, and a blond figure strode in front of her, not even offering her a glance or any further acknowledgement. "The food ready?" he asked.

* * *

_They call holidays an option for a reason;  
I heard you're coming back to life just for the fourth.  
I've been catching all your ghosts for every season;  
I pray to god you won't come back here anymore.  
_Where Have You Been?,_ Manchester Orchestra_

The pavement was hard, and the soles of the very young woman's shoes did little to absorb the impact. They were two-inch heels, sending out a steady, cacophonous _clack!_ amidst the crickets chirping and the midsummer wind breezing through the rustling leaves. Of course, the air was cool and clean, and Evlyn breathed it in gratefully. It was easier to breathe in night air- when no one was around except for her and the owls and the insects.

However regretfully, she pulled out her wand, and the peace soon proved to be short-lived. "_Diffindo_!" she hissed at the door, and it blew off of its hinges. She could have done something more subtle, more eloquent, but then she wouldn't have the pleasure of hearing a few more screams. There were running footsteps upstairs, and when Evlyn looked up, taking her sweet time, she saw a wisp of the hem of a nightgown disappear behind a closing door. She smirked to herself, turned on her heel, and delicately climbed the steps.

"I wouldn't try disapparating," she called out sweetly, biting her lip against another smile. That wouldn't be very seemly... "We already charmed the premises. Wouldn't want you...missing out on any fun."

The door was flung open and Evlyn smirked lightly, an eyebrow arching as her senses practically sprung to attention. That was more like it. A man leapt out from behind the door-frame and looked taken off guard for a moment; a girl? They sent a girl? "I'll give you 10 seconds to get out of my house!" he finally roared. "And you better not touch my family!"

Evlyn smiled, ascending the staircase with an unfaltering graceful ease, slight boredom stroked into her steps like a hollow painting. He stuttered, pointing his wand, trying to get the words out but failing. He was a good man; how could he kill a girl? Even _harm_ a girl? His life had been dedicated to saving people, to making a difference through quiet rebellion.

"_Expelliarmus!_" she breathed, the words coming out like vinegar went in, bitter and hard to swallow. It was almost nauseatingly easy, these killing jobs. She caught his wand in her free hand, holding it up to her own like a piece of parchment to a lighter. She set it alight with flame, only to add insult to injury because she knew it would tear at his soul. If she had to feel it, so should he.

"Y-you don't have to do this. If you kill us, you'll never be able to go back," he pleaded now, like a blubbering child, and she saw with disgust the innocence in his eyes. The goodness- everything she had grown to hate and lost early on.

"The first time you kill someone," she replied, kneeling down so that she could murmur it to him, her wand pointed at his jugular like she was holding him at knife-point, "is the moment you reach the point of no return. They don't call them 'unforgivable' curses for kicks. It's like loosening the stitching on the pieces of your soul; it's why it's the most opportune time to make horcruxes. I can't go back, but I _can_ go forward. _Avada Kedavra_," she hissed through her murmuring tone, standing up without a backward glance. She walked across the hall to the bedroom.

It was decorated in a homely fashion, all crochet work and homemade quilts, rocking chairs and plushy pillows. In the corner was a mother, smoothing down her son's hair in between stifled crying. "It's going to be fine. You're going to be alright. Nothing can hurt you; she can't hurt you. We'll see each other again; death isn't the end," her repetitious words growing more frantic as Evlyn walked closer.

"I wouldn't tell him lies," she said coldly, and the woman pressed her hands against her own nightgown in a vain search for her wand. She had no way to protect herself. Instead, she thrust her son behind herself, opening up herself for the attack. Evlyn wasn't about to create another Potter. With a flick of her wand, she flung the woman across the room.

She killed the boy first, his hands brought up around his head like it would save him from her spell, dark eyes peeking out. He had been whimpering.

She killed the crying mother after.

_What had she become?_

She was wrong when she had spoken to the man; once she had killed a _child_ she had reached the point of no return. No matter how much she did, how horrible she was, repenting seemed pretty cheap. Once you had done what she had done, you didn't deserve forgiveness.

* * *

Evlyn woke up once again to a head-ache inducing, blindingly bright sun shining in her eyes. They had stopped at midday to take a break and eat lunch, and after she had announced she wasn't hungry, she had laid down in the soft green grass, must have dozed off.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," came the aggravating and mocking voice she was wishing wasn't becoming so familiar.

"Why did you let me sleep?" she replied tonelessly, walking over and sitting down just a little ways from the two.

"You're just such an innocent and sweet looking damsel when you're not conscious," he replied, not even looking at her as he tinkered with some bizarre looking object.

"She's just shy of a serial killer, Runner. I'd fantasize over someone a bit different if I were you. It's not healthy," Blaine interjected, one of his blond eyebrows arching in an almost-amused-but-not-really sort of way.

"I can pretend," he snapped back and then grinned. He glanced back over at Evlyn. "After all, Fauve, we get to hear you sleeptalk."

"Yeah," the other continued, his bored voice gaining minute interest, "so what is it that you won't do? You kept saying, "I won't do it. God, I won't do it.""

"Was it decapitation?" Theo intoned somberly. "Too messy?"

Evlyn shook her head, though her face had paled. Had she said that? How funny. She had a selectively dormant conscience, only active when she was unconscious. "Actually, I had this awful nightmare that I was tied to this chair in an empty room, right? Tape on my eyelids, very Saw-esque, and in front of me was this film projector reeling the Twilight movie. Sparkles, love, and friendly vampires? I couldn't think of worse torture."

"It was very Edward Scissorhands meets Superman slash vampire. Socially awkward, but hilarious. Still don't think it was supposed to be," Theo responded. "Speaking of vampires and decapitation, I'd understand if you didn't want to decapitate someone. I've decapitated many a vampire in my day; it's messy enough, and that's without a steady pump of blood."

"Thanks for the jokes," Evlyn responded, her facade proving to be more bored than anything else. "But no; it was the Twilight movie. I swear on my soul."

"Your soul has the likeness of a back alley filled with cracks and potholes that serves as a home to homeless people. Messy and broken. Not much to swear on," he replied, looking over at Blaine who wouldn't speak to Evlyn more than necessary. Apparently Theo's morale was much looser. He hated her, she knew, but he was raised to be a killer, so maybe he understood what it did to you. Then again, he had always been on the right side. Maybe it didn't make you feel so... hollow.

* * *

_God, where have you been?_

* * *

A/N: It made me sad to make Evlyn do that.... :/  
She usually has a strict no killing kids policy.  
BUT, she's my villain. Can't sugar-coat her.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I only own the characters you don't recognize, with the exception of Tem. Cassandra owns/ed Tem. =x. I'll be trying to keep her in character, but yeah... That's that.

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"Loving someone is so hard... difficult. But hate- hate is so... _clean_."  
-Clark Kent, _Smallville_

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There were clouds overhead. They were gathering with an indescribably rapid intensity, all dark grays and hanging heavy. Theo looked up at the sky with a sour look, but no retort could send them back away again. It began raining then, starting as a drizzle and then slowly building its way up to cats and dogs and buckets.

"Glaring at it isn't going to make it stop, Theo," Tem intoned, raising her voice just loud enough to be heard over the pitter-patter of the rain. He looked down at her and smirked with mellow amusement, gently but firmly taking her arm in his hand as he walked under the metal slide on the other side of the park. She turned around to face him when they were no longer under the siege of raindrops.

"Do you doubt me?" he asked, a glint sparking somewhere behind his eye, but his voice was all seriousness.

Tem gave him a mock look of surprise that said, _Why would you even __**think**__ such a thing?_ "Of course not!" she replied, and he leaned in and kissed her, but when they broke apart she walked back out into the rain. He had followed her, and then she had stood on her toes to kiss him. He was taken by surprise for a moment; she very rarely ever made the first move. If that could even be considered the first move... But he wasn't complaining.

He heard some snickering from behind him, and when he turned around he was faced with a handful of jocks sporting varsity jackets and bad buzzcuts.

"Well, well, well," one of them said, the ringleader with his corn-blond hair and bright blue eyes. "If it isn't the hood and the freak," he said with a measure of disdain, but on the latter he looked Tem up and down, and Theo subsequently tensed up like a pitbull with an agenda. His face, however, remained expressionless and calm.

"The 'hood'?" he scoffed, taking a step forward and in front of Tem. "What, did I step into the Outsiders or something?" The boys all looked at each other and exchanged confused smiles, vicious in their way, as if they didn't understand, but they still had the fraction of mental capacity to know that they should be offended.

"Should I understand that? Or do I need to be the kind of sorry guy who walks around with a switchblade to feel like a man?" he sneered, advancing like he had guts, but it was only because he had a couple linebackers right behind him.

"I wouldn't have expected you to," Theo murmured for only Tem to hear, thick sarcasm and feigned excitement practically ingrained in his voice, "because, you know, you'd have to be literate to understand me making fun of you." He cleared his throat, making a show of brushing his hair back. "You're one to talk, eh? I mean, swaggering around like a toolbag in your varsity jackets- which, by the way, don't mean crap. You're still going to end up bagging my groceries. Oh, and sporting your mommy's suggested buzzcut. But, little does she know that they went out of style back in the 60s."

"You're jealous, Theo Runner," the one said, advancing, a smug smile on his face, "of everything I have. See, I have a _real_ family. My dad? He has a _real_ job. And my mom, well, she's actually there. To take care of the house and do everything mothers are supposed to do."

Theo smiled at him coldly, his hand now reaching into his pocket. "Yeah, you're right," he began, convincing to an extent. "I spent last night living out of a shoebox. It was a tight fit, a bit snug, but I felt it was quite cozy. My dad is off the wall. He blew all of the money we made from tag-teaming and robbing the old ladies leaving the church to fuel his gambling addiction and to support freelance prostitutes. Boost to the economy, you know. Oh, and my mom went off to Vegas to..."

"...become a nun?" Tem offered with a faint smile.

"Yeah. A nun. That was it. The kind that spend a lot of time praying in the wee hours of the morning for repentance."

Of everything that could have set him off, knowing that this was the pathetic bit of humanity he gave up his life to protect did the trick. Too bad the last of the vampire nest was pretty much dead. He'd have left one alive just to rip out the throat of this fellow.

"C'mon, Tom," one said, with jumpy, beady eyes and dark hair. His eyes were dark, too, like a shadow was cast over them to hide what was inside. "We can take him."

"Sad," Theo responded, advancing, and Tem had put her hand over his before he had a chance to pull out the switchblade. "You know, that you need to have a small army behind you before you can think about taking me on...," he commented mildly, letting it show that he thought of them less than he considered an ant.

"Don't," she murmured to him, and Theo looked down at her. "I know them; they're not worth it..."

"I know," he replied, brushing a strand of hair away from her face with his free hand. "But I'm bored." She sighed, but didn't argue; mostly, she'd let him do what he wanted. He loved her, but sometimes he hated that part of her. He'd do anything for her, even not do things, and sometimes he wished she'd ask more of him.

* * *

Evlyn had been watching Theo sleep with her face contorted with mild disgust. He had been murmuring lovingly for what seemed like ten minutes, and had it gone on any longer, she would have thrown up in the bushes that encompassed their little clearing. She looked over at the other, and she saw that the handsome blond boy's expression didn't differ too greatly from her own.

"Should...we wake him up?" she asked, her one eyebrow arched, but her question could have bordered on begging. It was shocking enough that she had been pushed this far; she did not beg. Dignity was one of her strong suits.

"Well...he seems happy...," Blaine responded weakly, but when Theo's expression darkened, his own shifted to one of concern. After a moment or two he leaned forward and prodded Theo's shoulder with two forefingers. "Wake up, Theo," he muttered forcibly, and after a couple seconds of that, Theo's eyelids fluttered open.

"Morning, beautiful," Evlyn called over brightly, an infuriating sarcastic thing that harbored little to no sincerity.

"Morning, Grumpy," he replied, continuing along with his theme, completely unabashed and unaffected by her. He studied the two, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Did I say something while I was asleep?"

"You could say that," Blaine responded, a tad bit reserved about it.

"Dignity isn't a strong suit of yours when you're too unconscious to know better," Evlyn added, smiling without good grace.

"You didn't even let me dream the best part," Theo responded drowsily, rubbing his eyes.

"Oh?" Blaine replied, smirking slightly. "And what was that?"

"Just trust me. It was good," he replied as though he were complimenting the sunny weather, and he stretched out and put his arms behind his head. "Anyway, when are we going to get going?"

"You tell me. We should have left by now, but I have a feeling the weather isn't going to be so pleasant in the mirror-realm. We might as well wait until it's shit."

* * *

Blaine particularly did not like Evlyn; she was the sort of power-hungry, sadistic individual that he had spent his entire life trying to distance himself from. His father hadn't been so terrible, but he had not been a righteous man, either. He had always tried to please his own father... Although he did not speak with his grandmother much, he did not think her to be quite as bad as his grandfather, and his grandfather, well, that was just a sick, disgusting joke.

The-aged-beyond-his-years boy bore the Malfoy name without shame; he was nothing like them, but instead disdain. He was at an utter loss as to how his grandmother had fallen for his grandfather, fallen into whatever trap he had contrived. As for his father, well, he never spoke much about Blaine's mother. He remembered her, if however faintly, but she had died when he was rather young. He could remember her singing to him.

She sang a lot.

Then she stopped singing. She had grown very sick- there was nothing that any of even the greatest healers could do for her. Draco had even gone so far as to blackmail and threaten them, but "It's hopeless," they had said. "Please, just go home. If we could save her, we would. Start...just start making preparations." Blaine remembered that. He had only been about six or seven, but he would never forget standing in that overtly-sanitary hallway, his father's wand at the legitimately concerned, kindly woman's throat.

Blaine had met all the dark wizards his father had associated with, of course. Some of them, their amusements particularly twisted, had attempted to teach him the Unforgivable Curses at a small age, trying to coerce him into performing them on mice and insects. He complied at first, desperately afraid of the smirking, dark-expressioned men. When it came to his pet guinea pig, well, he cried and threw a fit. His father came in and rescued him, throwing the men out- and not without a metaphorical kick.

They always came back; his father forgave them... Blaine never forgave his father for that. The men were cruel and pathetic, and he knew he would never associate himself with such creatures, such sad excuses for mankind.

When he went to Hogwarts at long last, he entered far too cynical and bitter for the age of eleven. At the same time, he was nervous, excited, and extremely rebellious. Although never influenced greatly at home, he grew loyal to his friends, and he was not easily shaken, showing the earliest signs of bravery. He had been sorted into Gryffindor that very first day, and since then, his father had addressed him differently, looked at him differently. He had appeared to no longer care about his son or where he was going, instead acting like the boy was on the road to nowhere at the speed of light.

He heard fond stories of Bellatrix Lestrange from older men who slipped their way through the grasp of the Ministry early on, heard about all the people she tortured into insanity and killed. He heard about the slaughtering of muggles with a sort of nostalgia, sick to him, but not to them. They were murderers, or worse than murderers: they were the people who knew what was happening and supported it, not having the guts to get the dirty work done themselves. Every time he had heard of the new Dark Lord, this is what he thought of. When he learned of his right side man- or, in this case, young woman- he was instantly reminded of these people and everything that served as a dark shadow cast over wizarding history.

"So, what is this 'mirror-realm'?" came a sickly sweet voice, pulling him out of his reverie. He looked over at her, feeling an unwelcomed rise of nausea as he did so.

"You'll find out," he responded shortly, before his overtly-talkative partner had time to reply. The girl came closer, wrapping her arm around his waist. His muscles went taut.

"Be nice, sweety. You have to deal with me either way...," she continued, batting her eyelashes and offering a small smile, but to him, it looked more like she was baring her fangs.

"Take your arm off me, Fauve, or you won't even make it that far," he hissed back at her, forcibly removing her arm from his waist.

Her gaze darkened at first, but she quickly masked it with a faux pout. "That's not nice," she began, then allowed herself to smirk visibly. "Anyway, if you were allowed to kill me, you would've done it when you stormed the place. Consequently, you're stuck with me. Sweet move, Sherlock. No apparating?"

"They can track that," Theo called over, his annoying condescending tone sending Evlyn's imagination reeling. Her fingers were itching for something sharp, like the knives along his belt.

Blaine Malfoy looked at her with a cold gaze comparable to those that came before him, those that hadn't made it their sworn duty to rebel against everything their family stood for. With that look on his face, he was still different right down to his soul and in his bones; Evlyn could tell. "You know, murder wasn't really what I had in mind. I'm by no means a sadistic man, but I could honestly say that I could torture you and not feel an ounce of guilt about it," he said to her quietly, almost hissed. Yes. Although he was different, _good_, he was undoubtedly a Malfoy.

The young woman surveyed him with a measured, apathetic gaze for a brief moment, then her face twisted with an amused smirk. "You know, that could be kind of kinky...."

"Not the way that I would do it," Blaine replied, smiling at her with no real humor, his hands clasped behind his back to prevent them from wrapping around her throat. "And I really doubt if the people we're working for mind their package turning up a bit damaged."

"It already is," Theo interjected, leaning over as he picked up a notebook and a pen. There was no definite tone to his observation, but it did little to ease up the violent young woman.

"I'll show you damaged," she breathed, her pondwater-green eyes darkening. Theo merely smiled at the comment, looking completely at ease, as though she was no real threat. Blaine nodded at Theo in some voiceless understanding. Throughout the rest of the afternoon they sat in silence, and then it grew dark; their surroundings grew into a desperate, dangerous black abyss, and it began to rain...


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Wellll, this is an adventure story, and we're on to the fourth chapter, and there hasn't been a battle yet! The raiding of Ev's building doesn't count.

Disclaimer: Malfoy name and any discernable canons are not owned by me. The ones you don't recognize are either mine or were borrowed with permission from a certain old RP buddy who I was originally writing this for.

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_So get on your feet,  
wipe the dirt off and get with it;  
destiny waits at your door.  
You move on because the past can't be your passion.  
So what if you did something wrong?  
Find someone who hasn't._  
-**Fireworks At Dawn**, Senses Fail.

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The rain was growing steadily harder, sending Evlyn to shiver from her soaking clothes and dripping hair; it hung in tendrils, aiding the water in running down her back and under her shirt. She didn't mind it; she never did. There was something about the rain that not even she could spite. It cleansed, but it had no compassion or vendettas. It didn't care who you were; it would wash you just the same.

_I hear the Fauves are pretty decent people._ Evlyn grimaced at the words. They weren't good people; they weren't good people by a _long_ shot. All the memories of her earlier childhood- before she was placed in foster care- flooded back to her and sent her into an irrevocable state of bitterness. People- so dimwitted and naive, always theorizing and prejudging with their farce logic. She hated them, hated them all.

Despite everything, how what happened at night was the worst, how that shredded her apart and made her despise the sun even more for its pretenses- nothing could blot out the darkness- she knew the decisions she made were all her own. And she didn't regret one of them. Was it sick and twisted and demented? Yes. But it also made her feel better, and from what she'd read, there was no such thing as a dignified death, anyway. No need to lie in pretenses...

She turned to Theo and Blaine, saw their mouths moving but couldn't hear them over the roaring rain. She eyed them disdainfully, not wanting to move closer in order to hear their words. Messing with Blaine stirred enough amusement, but she didn't _actually_ want them as her company. After all, she was forcibly placed in the current circumstances, anyway. Finally, she opened her mouth to call over the rain, but Theo and Blaine suddenly spun around.

"_Mortuae!_" he shouted, then motioned for Blaine to drag Evlyn back. He complied, pulling her roughly somewhere behind himself.

"How did they get here, Theo?!" Blaine shouted over the roar of the rain and the growling calls of the beasts. They looked like some bizarre cross between a lobster, a scorpion, and a chicken, and this might have been comical, had they not had pincers, a rather large stinger, and a huge beak, all of which could inflict fatal damage.

"I dunno; they followed us, or something! Fucking _hell_ if I know!" Theo snapped back, but Evlyn noticed that he looked more determined than angry, a sort of grim amusement about him, like he was itching for something to do, and this was just the kind of scratch he needed. He pulled back the flap of his black muggle-hoodie, exposing a belt lined with several throwing knives; he gripped one in his right hand, jumping to the side as one of the disgusting, monstrous things threw its head down and stabbed the earth with its over-sized beak. He brought his hand back and then threw the knife forth, aiming directly at its jugular. It collided with precision, and after a few staggering steps, the thing fell. Theo stood back for a moment, waiting for its convulsing to subside before running forth to retrieve his knife.

Blaine glanced behind himself at Evlyn, who had been watching the events unfold with intense interest. "Stay here, and don't try to run. You don't know where you are, and Theo still has your wand, so you'll just end up getting killed anyway."

"Well, when you talk like that, it almost sounds like you care about me," Evlyn replied, mocking him but not sounding so amused at the moment. Blaine smiled bitterly at her, pulling out something that appeared to be the hilt of a sword, but it was emanating a moon-like glow. He flicked his wrist and a long blade protruded forth, covered in some sort of ancient runes that Evlyn didn't understand.

"No magic?" she murmured, her eyes flicking up to meet his, no mockery or arrogance in her voice now.

"They're impervious to it. Come to think of it, a lot of things are. You should get out more," he replied coldly, turning around and then breaking into a run in order to aid Theo.

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Theo Runner had been growing bored of the monotonous task he had been given. Kidnapping the Dark Lord's favorite servant _sounded_ cool, especially when you threw in that she tortured countless civilians and killed people just because she felt like it, and not out of any real loyalty in servitude, but when it all came down to it, it was just another errand. The girl, to be quite frank, was arrogant, annoying, and completely horrible. Although these things helped with the boy's amusement, he didn't like her, and it didn't help that his best friend and long time partner looked like he was going to retch every time he saw her.

Blaine had come to his side, holding his sword in front of him at the ready, a smirk lighting up his face- then again, the glow could just have been coming off of the sword itself. It was Elven- something that Theo had always admired, but when Blaine offered to give him one, he couldn't quite part with his throwing knives. There was a sort of nostalgia about them, even though the days he went hunting with his father had a certain darkness surrounding them. The memories hadn't been _all_ bad, not completely. Although hardly understandable for most people. Blaine understood that, maybe.

He watched as his friend got close to one, its head lowered to the ground as it prepared to pounce, and brought down the blade like an axe. Its head rolled a little ways, but the beak prevented it from rolling any further.

Theo raised an eyebrow. "Some repressed rage, eh?" he commented mildly, grinning at Blaine.

"More fighting, less talking, Runner," he replied, flashing the other boy a grin of his own, an excited edge infiltrating his usual tonelessness.

"Alright, Malfoy. Have it your way," he replied, his eyes flicking over as his one eyebrow arched. When he turned back around, he was faced with one of the things just inches from himself, its beak half-open as though it were tasting the air for his scent. Its beady eyes probably just didn't cut it. It brought its head back, and as it was lurching forward to take the bite, Theo ran forward and thrust one of his knives upward into its neck. He rolled out from underneath it before the thing collapsed, his knife lost somewhere in its flesh.

Blaine was right there, his arm extended to help Theo up, and all the monsters were seemingly gone. He grabbed Blaine's hand and the other boy pulled him to his feet. "Well, it looks like I'm going to go knife hunting," Theo commented with not-nearly-exaggerated-enough distaste as he looked over at the body of the creature.

"Just let it go this time, Runner. I don't want to see it," he replied, looking faintly disgusted.

"They hold a great deal of sentimental value to me," he replied somberly, but a part of Blaine just thought that Theo liked to get negative reactions out of people. Which, from experience, he knew to be true.

"Fine," he replied, turning back around to face Evlyn, "go corpse digging." He stopped abruptly as he saw one of the creatures looming over the girl, its scorpion-like stinger poised to stab. He ran forward, thrusting her to the side and bringing his sword upward as he cut the end off its tail. The thing staggered backward, but after a moment it proved to only become more angry. It lunged forward just as Blaine drew his hand backward, and sword-tip collided with skull.

The creature fell just a few feet shy of Evlyn. Whether it was a mask or not, Blaine didn't know, but she seemed completely unaffected.

"Aw, my knight in shining armor," she stated sardonically, but it was despondent and her eyes were glued to the monster.

Blaine looked at her, his gaze piercing and frozen, letting his fore arm drop from her collar bone, where he had been shielding her. "You're just a job. If it were up to me, I would have let it eat you, but we both know that your lifespan from here onward only lasts as long as this trip." The girl didn't respond, and for some reason that infuriated him, but he didn't show it. She looked completely as if she didn't care, no amount of shock or shame or fear crossed her face.

Theo walked up, wiping the blood from his knife and hands with a rag he picked up from their campsite. "Not bad, Malfoy," he commented mildly. "Let's say we get this show on the road...," he continued, a glint in his eye that hadn't been there before as he shed his drenched sweatshirt. It was still raining, and he was soaked through to his black t-shirt which clung to his chest, shaped with lean muscle.

As the unlikely trio stood before a clandestine portal, disguised by veneer among the foliage, a blond man stood in his office, staring out his window. The glass was wavy with age, oozing so slowly that no one could see it in any length of time they looked at it, but it was evident with hundreds of years of age. The Malfoy Manor was in Wilshire, inherited in Draco's name when his father was sent to Azkaban. The family fortune was inherited too, and for years, Draco had taken his son, Blaine, to visit Lucius in prison after his wife had died. Then his son had proven to be a disgrace, and after years of it, he had disowned him at the age of fifteen. The boy could find his own way if he didn't like the path his own father had set out for him.

Draco turned abruptly, walking over to his desk and sitting down in the expensive leather chair. His lips almost quirked into a sad smile when he saw the woman's photograph, smiling and waving at him, her strawberry-blond hair blowing in the wind. The leaves that day had been pulled and guided by the wind, straight into their bodies and hair. After a moment, he grimaced and then pulled it down so the image was face-first on his desktop. He didn't want to see her, not now.

A woman entered the room, nearly black hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall of darkness, dark eyes looking at him with a calm, calculating gaze. He looked her over briefly, but his heart had died with his wife; he did not love this woman and never would.

"Draco," she breathed, her voice deep and sensual, harmonic, but all Draco heard was a dirge. "When are you coming back to bed?"

"I have work," he responded shortly, his gray eyes addressing her coldly after he had given her a once-over.

"I know you don't love me," she replied with a sigh, taking a seat in one of the chairs on the other side of the room. "But at least you used to pretend." Draco only scoffed. _Or any of the others,_ he thought to himself without any shame. Her eyes narrowed at his reaction. "Why am I staying?" she asked him bluntly.

Draco looked speechless for a moment. Why would she ask him? He had no idea why she was staying with him. He cheated on her, and he didn't even care about her much to begin with. "You have to answer that for yourself," he replied, looking down at a stack of papers for the Ministry.

"No," she replied, her voice carefully masking the hurt, but Draco knew it was there. He finally looked up at her, his cold gray eyes looking into hers curiously. "I'm asking _you_ that. You have your other women; you could have very well made me leave by now. Why live with me?"

Because he didn't like being alone in the house. It was better for him to share the place with someone than to think about all he had lost, not just his wife, but his son as well. It was that he didn't want to spend his nights mostly alone, but he just needed someone to lie next to him. He needed someone to think about, to buy things for, to go to dinner with. He was still looking into her eyes when he finally spoke. "That's a good point," he replied, his voice measured and cold. "Get out."

Alexandria looked down at the ground, then back at him. Her lips were pursed as she fought for her composure, but Draco knew that angry tears were brimming just beneath the surface. She stood up abruptly, swallowing as she backed up. "I guess this is good-bye then. I'll need a few moments to pack." With that, she turned and walked stiffly out of the room.

She never sang. There was a silence in the house now that could not be filled; his wife, Sylvia, had always been singing, and the silence reminded him of when she had grown ill. He had invited Alexandria to live with him after hearing her singing for a few spare knuts at a bar, ritzy enough to buy at, but cheap when it came to entertainment. She had a beautiful voice, but he could not love her and could not make her happy. He could not make her sing.

Evlyn stared at her own reflection, seeing nothing more than a soulless girl, barely anything more than a child. The girl was a lot of things, but she wasn't deluded; she knew exactly what she was. There was a frame around the thing that lied on the ground. It looked like a mirror, but the surface was much more of a shimmering liquid than a glass.

"Careful," Theo intoned somberly. "You might break it." Evlyn looked over at the boy, not saying anything. It had reached the point where she had no particular urge to speak to either of them, and instead fixated her mind on imagining particularly cruel ways of being rid of them.

It was a few moments of silence before either of them spoke, obviously expecting a rebuttal on Evlyn's part. "We'll each need to step through. I'll go first, then you, then Blaine." She nodded, seemingly mesmerized by the now gently rippling surface. On the inside, somewhere near her hollow, blackened core, she was scheming.

Theo turned to Blaine who remained silent himself, his eyes glued on Evlyn's back before they met Theo's. In one look he managed to express enough words. He didn't trust her, not at all. Theo nodded, but he turned away regardless. They had minimal time, and with that, he stepped through the sheet of liquid.

Barely any ripples broke the surface, and to Evlyn, it was like he stepped through a solid floor. An odd, shifting, not so solid floor, to say the least. She spun around to meet Blaine's gaze, not even a fraction of a moment to when she aimed for a pressure point- but Blaine's reflexes weren't so shabby either, and he had been expecting something of this nature. He stepped forward, his hands restraining her arms as he pushed back.

With that slight motion pushing her off balance, she fell backward and through the portal. When she opened her eyes they stung, and her surroundings were too blurry to make out. Her body was floating; she was underwater as she gasped for breath. Wrong move. With conscious effort, she kept herself from choking and taking more water into her lungs, swimming frantically upward. A hand grabbed her arm and pulled her up.

Evlyn broke the surface coughing and sputtering, looking like a half-drowned cat as she glared at Blaine who was half swimming to shore. Frustrated tears pricked at her eyes as she began to swim, pulling her arm from Theo's grasp. He looked at her with polite concern. "Are you okay? What happened?" he asked as he swam.

"He pushed me," she replied in a small voice, knowing that it would sound immature and trite. She was right. All people were the same, and right now she just felt frustrated- too despondent to even be angry. A part of her missed the anger; it helped her live.

They continued to swim closer to shore, and before long, the distance between the surface of the water and the ocean floor was small enough that they could begin to walk. They sloshed out of the water tired, dripping, and heavy with water. However, the weather here was sunny and bright in contrast to the storm that had been raging on the other side. Evlyn wrapped her arms around herself despite the pleasant weather as she looked at Blaine, finding it hard to come up with words. "Thanks for that back there," she replied, struggling to mask her now apparent emotions. "You really didn't need to almost cause me to die."

Blaine smirked at her, his usually cool demeanor now expressing cruel amusement. "It won't be almost next time, sweety," he replied, not even bothering to hide his enjoyment. He turned to Theo. "How far to the next portal."

"A night or two," he replied, pushing his wet, shaggy brown hair back and then shaking it out like a dog.

"Seems like a fun trip," the other replied, no trace of sarcasm or facetiousness about his words.

"Yeah. In the meantime, do you think that you could try to mind her emotions? It's not necessary to add insult to injury, you know," Theo responded, his expression stoic.

Evlyn looked completely taken-aback. Her emotions suddenly colliding with her conscious mind, Theo caring about peoples' feelings, Blaine's newfound twisted sense of humor... "What _is_ this place?" she finally exclaimed, her lost anger now being found and rising like lava in a volcano.


	5. Chapter 5

Evlyn sat beside the fire, doing everything within her power to push her emotions away. Saying that she had never felt this way before would taste a lie- feeling so uncomfortable in her own skin, that is. Her eyes shifted over Theo and Blaine, the one's newfound morale, and the other's sudden cruelty. She was too torn up right now to feel amused. It was like every action she had ever done was now coming back to get her, like the patches on her soul were pulling away all over again. When it occurred first, it had been painful, but it had also felt liberating. Now it just felt like a bad dream.

She once heard that remorse was the only way for redemption after using the unforgivable curses. The girl was much too proud to admit this as being remorse, but she also knew that things always got worse before they got better. As it turned out, she couldn't bring herself to take that 'worse' bit first. And anyway, who said she wanted to get better? She had a good thing going, and she didn't need any sort of newfound emotion or regret to come along and ruin that for her.

"I'm going for a walk," she stated, trying too hard to make her voice sound steely and it showed. She stood up from the ground where she sat, walking briskly to the center of the oddly glittering woods. It was daytime now, and everything was intensely beautiful, almost to the point where it looked threatening in a surreal sort of way.

Once in the woods her pace quickened. There were voices in the leaves, and every time one of them rustled, a voice began murmuring. Somehow they all seemed unnervingly familiar, but she couldn't place a finger on it. Her fingers reached out to touch the bark of a tree and a sudden scream sent her reeling backwards.

"_PLEASE, NO! DON'T DO THIS! NO, NO, __**NO**__! I'LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT. MONEY? THERE ARE GALLEONS... NO!"_

She spun around and a dozen more filled its place; she dropped to her knees and covered her ears with her hands.

"_It's going to be alright. Nothing can hurt you...,"_ but the voice was warped, and Evlyn's hands were scratching at her ears as though that would stop the sounds.

And then everything went silent as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She stood up, trembling despite herself, and was faced with Blaine Malfoy. "Can't be as cold here, can you?" he started, his eyes shifting away from her own gaze. It was obvious that he had to think in order to act like himself. "It's the Forest of Death. Some images and sounds aren't so pleasant, but sometimes its not so bad. It depends who you've seen die, or who you were close to that died. Their souls pass through here, and they all leave an imprint."

Evlyn nodded, standing up and steadying herself. She shook her head to the side to toss her hair behind her shoulder and out of her face, straightening up her spine and rolling her shoulders back. This place would not make her weak. "Good to know. Probably would have been better to know _before_ I came in here though." She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her fingers against her upper arm.

Blaine's hands were clasped behind his back as he turned towards Evlyn. "Our concern is not for your feelings. We were and are well aware what the effects of this place are, but it is possible to be yourself after a short time. All that matters is how closely you know yourself. Of course, it's nearly impossible to prevent all out of character actions. We all slip up when we travel through here..."

He stepped closer to her then, and Evlyn did not take a step back, only looked into his eyes. She had no idea why he was closing the distance between them. She read the brief indecision in his eyes before he looked as though he made up his mind, brought his hand up to her face and kissed her.

She was shocked, to say the least. A part of her might have liked the human contact, but the rest of her was disgusted with herself. She didn't need this, didn't need him. She did not need to feel, and she definitely did not need to like anything about people. They broke apart when Theo cleared his throat from a nearby place, his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched.

"If you two aren't too busy, I'd suggest we get moving. We only have a day more of walking, and I know you can't hear it, but my father is making quite a racket about burning the witches. Considering I have neither a pyre, nor the heart to burn Malfoy, the only thing left to do is to start walking."

Theo Runner was standing with his arms crossed in the back of a dingy motel room-- one of many in a never ending series of dingy motel rooms that he traveled between week after week. Sometimes jobs only lasted a few days, and that's all the time spent in one place amounted to. Of course, there were the times where he would spend months in one place and would be able to attend school, but for the most part it was a lot of moving around and a lot of driving.

Staring at roads made him feel sick; not a nauseous sick, mind you, just a sick that came about from too much repetition. He never knew when they would end and when they'd finally stop off at some corner motel between a gas station and an all night diner. Speaking of all night diners, his father was across the street ordering some quick take out as they planned their line of attack.

His throwing knives were scattered on the table, bits and pieces of disassembled guns, all clean now, the dirty rag lying atop them. ...And now he was standing in the shadows, leaning against the faux wooden walls, a thin sheet of decorative covering concealing the probably battered dry wall underneath. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his eyes were focused out the window.

The doorknob turned and his eyes flicked instantly to the door, his muscles taut on impulse. When it opened, he was faced with his father, the man's face worn and ragged and he was scowling.

"What'd you get done, boy?" Nate said gruffly, dropping the boxes of food on one of the queen-size beds, walking over to the table where he examined the gun parts.

"All cleaned," Theo responded, his tone bored, and he walked forward to retrieve his knives. His father sat down at the table, bending over to reassemble all of his pieces. "And the werewolves haven't left the house across the street. There is no back door; I checked earlier today when you were at the Fastmart." The bag from then was by the door, filled with rope, matches, hairspray, and other such things. There were two long lighters and a set of wire-snips.

"There were attacks last night. The full moon hasn't passed yet, so they won't be in human form tonight. Should be easier to pull the trigger that way, eh, boy?" Theo nodded, understanding the metaphor even though he himself didn't depend too much on guns. Knives didn't run out of bullets.

There was another knock at the door and the two of them looked at each other. Nate cocked his gun; Theo held a dagger behind his back. His father pulled a sheet over their table of weaponry and pulled the grocery bag from the Fastmart over into the closet. Nate sat on the edge of the bed, the gun on the side of him farthest from the door, and he opened up a box of food, motioning Theo to open then, his hand resting on the gun.

Theo sighed and opened the door, his dagger pressed against the backside of the door with the hand he used to hold it open, and he was faced with a straggly-haired man in a black hoody and torn jeans. He seemed nervous about something, shifting from foot to foot. Theo smiled politely, but there was an edge behind it. "Looking for something?" he asked calmly.

"Well yeah," the young, disheveled man began, his voice shaking if ever so slightly. "I'm looking for a couple of guys. Heavily armed. Dangerous." Theo's hand tightened on the dagger as he looked at the sky above them. The clouds were thinning between the moon and themselves. Theo cursed internally, a string of creatively profane words reverberating through his head. "Hunters. You know the type. They kill people who've fallen into bad circumstances... They're a bit like you, actually."

Nate raised an eyebrow, his face an expressionless mask as he rolled a silencer onto his gun. The man entered just as the cloud cover dissipated. "Oh, you, uh, _have_." He leapt forward, his jaw jutting forward and his bones popping out of place and elongating. Nate shut one eye as he held his gun steady and fired twice. The man fell in mid-leap, a horrifying mix of half man-half creature, not fully turned....

And then his shape slowly became human once more as he lied on the ground, dead.

"Help me move the body, boy," he began, his voice coming from somewhere distant. Theo just stared in shock.

"Seriously?" he responded incredulously, obviously panicked. He was too young to be an accessory to murder. "This is bad. The people out there don't even know about werewolves; they're not going to believe us. If we get caught, we're dead." But his father was already dragging the body over to the closet and picked the bag up and tossed it back towards the door. He shut the closet door.

"What are you doing standing there, boy? Shut that door."

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Evlyn was walking behind the two, listening to them bickering in hushed voices. The air was clear and clean, the foliage green and rich, and the soil warm and holding an earthy scent, but the light was nearly completely gone, and night was nearly upon them.

"What are you thinking, Blaine?" Theo began, his voice harsh. "Once we get to the city, we're handing her over. We have a good job. Don't ruin it."

Blaine breathed, pushing his hair back as he did so. It was the sort of action he had picked up subconsciously from spending so much time with Theo. "I'm not ruining anything. Anyway, it's different here. You know that."

"What I know is that no one changes who they really are in here. Just because we all act different doesn't mean we _are_, and honestly, I'm worried. She tortures people for fun, Malfoy."

"Relax, Runner," he intoned softly. "Anyway, did you bring your potion?"

Theo stopped in his tracks.

"You didn't, did you?"

"I, uh. Might've forgotten that, actually," he replied, smiling ruefully. "I hope you have it in you to hold me back, because my mood isn't exactly wonderful either. I might eat your princess."

Evlyn walked quicker to catch up. She scowled at the two of them. "Don't tell me one of you is a half human creature," she began, eyeing Theo.

"Well, isn't that the pot calling the kettle black. You don't even qualify as half human," Theo responded coolly, not even looking at the girl, his eyes trained on Blaine. "Which might explain a lot of things, considering Blaine over here hasn't ever shown much interest in other humans."

Blaine ignored the cut, taking it with a grain of salt from his partner. He pulled out a small bag and put his hand inside, pulling out a small silver dagger, not terribly sharp, but enough to do some damage if needed. It had to have been charmed-- the bag, Evlyn noted. "Take this, and don't even think about trying anything with it. We need to keep you alive, but if you so much as purposely _nick_ him, I will kill you. But if he comes at you, hold it up, flat side forward. Understood?"

Evlyn's eyes were glued to the dagger, and she nodded. Blaine and Theo exchanged looks, wondering if she even heard his words. He handed it to her, but as her fingers clasped the hilt, he held fast for a moment, his eyes boring into hers. "Hurt him, and I will kill you."

Evlyn nodded, smiling in a way that suggested that she'd much rather bare her teeth. "Understood. Just wielding him away if his teeth get too close... I'll be good. You can count on me."

There wasn't much that physically kept Evlyn from abusing her privilege and gutting the two of them before night approached and Theo was turned into a werewolf. Of course, they were both trained killers, one of which was particularly adept at throwing knives, and the other at wielding a sword, but all in all, whether by arrogance or confidence, she didn't see it as too much of a threat. So this left her to wonder why she didn't do it.

Was it that she couldn't? Was it that she, Evlyn Fauve, the torturous female murderer, feared by many, with the blood-slicked hands was beginning to grow soft toward human beings? Was this compassion or something else entirely? She fingered the hilt of the blade, the beautifully engraved thing with swirls in a language she did not understand, and finally decided it was merely self preservation. Even if she could take down the two of them if she could catch them off guard, even if she could kill them both soundlessly, quickly, and efficiently, she was still in a place she did not know her way out of. In fact, she was not even quite sure what _world_ she was in.

"Theo is going deep into the woods to get away from us," she heard a voice from above her say, and she looked up to see Blaine, his hands clasped in front of him, standing afore her with a stoic expression. He took a few steps closer and then sat next to her, his knees up, and his arms hanging over his knees lazily. For a good long while, they sat in silence.

_Boy, kill the witches. They're not human; what are you doing? Running away? You're not a Runner, you're a runner. Running away from your problems, getting rid of them like you did to me, kid. _

Theo grimaced as he walked through the woods, determined only to make it past the Forest of Death without losing his mind. The woods broke up past here, into a field where he could be at least somewhat sane. And when he turned into a wolf, well, the voices wouldn't bother him.

_Oh, that's right. It's because you're not human either. You've gotten soft. I tried to do what I had to, and you got in my way, boy, because you're worthless. You don't understand what it is our job to do; you don't understand the greater good. _

"Actually, father, I think with you I did a world of good," he began with a tone, never minding that he was talking to something less than a ghost, only a memory haunting his mind. "After all, you weren't exactly a saint."

_You're the Devil! The Devil, boy! And I saw it after the Moon's Children turned you, and I tried to get it out, but we both know there's only one way..._

"My point exactly, dear old dad. You had 'the Devil' in you...," he commented, letting his voice trail off, smiling slightly at the infuriation that came in the memory's voice now, the imprint of energy left forever in the world. He wasn't a ghost, no, but no one ever truly left. Energy could not be created nor destroyed.

When he reached the field, the sun was just about down, and the moon peeked its way through the cover of billowy clouds. His bones began to crunch and he doubled over in pain, feeling every joint pop out of place and readjust itself, every month feeling dislocation after dislocation, the rapid lengthening of bones. He heard once that the worst pain was that of bones. He couldn't argue with that statement.

The moon peeked out from behind the clouds, and she shined down on him with all the light she stole from the sun, and Theo was unable to repress a howl.

Blaine was sitting next to Evlyn, his heart beating more rapidly than he let on. He was more than determined to hate her, but he had to admit that even through his disgust there was a certain amount of fascination present. He thought again of Theo's words and clenched his jaw, suppressing a grimace. Not even he could believe what he had done. "Listen, about what I did...," he began to say, but Evlyn cut him off with a look. It was that half-dead look that stopped his words in his throat, the look that the girl always seemed to try so hard to mask, and it made Blaine wonder how long it had been since she had bothered to even _try_ to be human.

"It was your way of looking for power. You wanted control of the situation, right?" but with these words, she didn't seem to be looking for an answer. In fact, it was exactly the opposite.

"Does everything have to do with power for you?" he asked with a harsh tone under a thin veil of nonchalance.

"Just take the excuse I gave you and shut up."

He clenched his jaw again, this time not bothering to hide the anger in his eyes, faintly wondering what it was about her that set him off so badly. So what if she killed people? So what if she tortured them? It shouldn't personally bother him, but it did. "These past couple days I've been wondering where it was that you went wrong."

"Yes. My parents were wonderful, as you've already mentioned. I guess it's too bad I killed them last month." She paused for good measure, a look of feigned surprise passing lightly over her features, but there was a bitter edge to it all. "You didn't know...? Oh, that's right. Well, they've been 'missing.' Just think if you'd come to get me a little sooner... There'd be two more people overpopulating the Earth."

Blaine just looked at her, letting out a slow breath. "God," he slipped up with the muggle religious reference, another thing that happened with too much time spent with Theo as his company, "you have no idea. What is wrong with you?"

"God has nothing to do with it, and I think they deem the disorder 'emotional insanity.'" She looked at him as though she tasted something bitter, but kept her head held high. "What is it with _you_? You try so hard to prove you're nothing like Draco or Scorpius. I bet you never bother to keep in touch with your brother; in fact, I _know_ you haven't." She paused. "Why is it that you're so ready to be disgusted with me when you've turned your back on your entire family? Does it make you feel better? Does it boost your self-esteem?" And then she suddenly looked very sad as she looked past him. "But you don't know me. _I_ don't even know me. Even if I tried to be good, I probably wouldn't be. It's like I subconsciously choose my actions, and I know that's no excuse. Don't get me wrong, I always enjoy what I do, or a part of me does. You're sickened by me, and yet you kissed me. I'm in this place and I feel a lot of emotions that feel a lot like regret... And now you're probably wondering why I'd tell you this, why I'd do it. And the most feasible answer to that is that I'm manipulating you, but I'm not. I can assure you that once I leave, I will never feel that again. It took me a long time to destroy my remorse, any feelings of mercy, and I will not go back to being so weak." She finally looked him in the eyes once more. "You'd best kill me while you still can."

Blaine was left without words for a moment, his sharp face tightened with a cold look. "I have orders to follow, and I daresay that wouldn't please Theo. Let's just get through tonight without any accidents. By tomorrow we'll be out of this place."

"You're spineless," she breathed, but her eyes looked glassy and she sounded frustrated.

Blaine shook his head. "You're confusing me with yourself." And much to his great surprise, she laughed. It was quiet, but it sounded sincere. Bitter, but sincere. He watched she she laid out on the ground, putting the knife in front of her head as she crossed her arms under her cheek. Was it shame that was making her suicidal? Some sick form of remorse?

"Did I kill someone you know?" she asked, her voice coming from that distant dead place, and she smiled at him.

"No."

"Then why do you hate me?" she asked him curiously, her eyebrows pulling together as she glanced at him.

"My guinea pig."

"Excuse me?" Her one eyebrow was arched as she looked at him with a bemused expression, now balancing on her elbows as she propped herself up more.

"You would have been one of my father's friends who tried to make me use the Cruciatus Curse on my pet guinea pig."

Evlyn nodded like it made complete, total sense, and when she spoke it was somberly. "I don't even like killing kids."

"Then why do you do it?"

"I couldn't risk being responsible for making another Harry Potter. I did what I had to do."

In a strange way, this all made sense to Blaine. It was sick and unstable, but it was logical on a certain level. It wasn't a very high level; in fact, it was quite low, but it wasn't irrational, spontaneous behavior, even if it didn't explain everything. She did what she had to do and only that, and Blaine _did_ hate her for it to an extent, but also found he couldn't completely hate her for it. Some part of him had some twisted desire to find out what it was that made her the way she was.

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The Malfoy Manor was silent, almost too silent. There were no other breathing bodies besides Draco and the staff, and Draco wasn't so modest as to have casual conversation with mere housemaids and butlers. Such ingrained personality traits rarely died easily, and whether it was pride or arrogance depended on the commentator.

Suffice it to say, the lack of activity in the house left him frustrated, and he had achieved minimal work. Of course the Ministry wouldn't be happy, but if that was the only job he had to fall back on, he wouldn't be a Malfoy. In fact, the only reason that he still worked at the Ministry was due to a favor for an old family friend. Of course the information he collected wasn't going to the most honorable crowd, and this he knew. However, he wasn't one to burn bridges and he didn't care much for choosing sides at an inopportune time. It was always best to keep his doors open.

Although he would never admit it to himself, let alone to other people, a part of him missed Alexandria. There was something in her that reminded him of Sylvia, with how headstrong she had been, but reserved. She spoke only when it mattered, but never feared speaking her mind. Draco had always wondered what kind of upbringing could influence that-- being so confident with oneself and never doubting their beliefs. Something about being willing to fight and die for something fascinated him. It was petty, sure, and incredibly _stupid_, and he had always looked down upon Gryffindors for lacking any sense of self-preservation, but he was fascinated by it nonetheless.

And now he was alone once more. He briefly contemplated drawing back his arm and putting a fist through his wall, but his father had always looked down upon muggle dueling, and he was nowhere near that immature...

With that thought in mind, he brought fist to drywall, relishing the crunch of it under his fist. He cringed for a moment, having caught the back of his knuckle on an exposed nail, and when he brought his hand back from the wall, there was a substantial amount of blood flowing out of the gash. He glanced at the damage he had done with an indifferent expression, and then made his way out of his office and down one of the side staircases, holding his hand out in front of himself.

Finally he made his way to the small room by the kitchen, in which sat the trusted mediwitch that he had on call in the Manor. She wasn't an expert, nor was she a professional, but the elderly witch had been around through Sylvia's years here and Draco had no intention of letting her go. Upon seeing him enter her room, she brought her spectacles up to her nose, the librarian sort that hung off a chain around her neck, and made a tsking sound. "Mr. Malfoy, I'm not usually one of many words, but I'd like to tell you that it is generally unwise to do such harm to yourself."

The man arched an eyebrow, his lip quirking although he did not smile. In fact, there was not one part of his body or his expression that exuded any ounce of kindness. Despite this, the woman did not seem a bit put off by it. "Madeleine, what makes you think that I did this to myself?" he inquired in a professional tone, but there was something just underlying it, maybe a sort of friendliness that had once accompanied his words when he addressed her, but was now almost completely lost- like the ghost of only a glimmer of a memory.

She scoffed, pulling his hand forward as she doused it with a particularly uncomfortable potion. "Because, Mr. Malfoy, after your fiasco with Alexandria, you don't have any company in this mansion."

Draco ignored her words, instead grimacing at the sensation of the potion. "Ouch. Merlin, what kind of potion _is_ that?"

"It's not a potion, Draco," she slipped up, calling him by his first name. It wasn't something she had done since he was but a child. "It's a solution of hydrogen peroxide. I figure if you're going to vent your frustration like a muggle, you should be treated like one too. And you'll heal that way. Oh, and it will probably leave a scar. This kills living tissue as well as bacteria. It would probably do you good to have some sort of way to remember it by. Whether you'd like to or not."

"Thoughtful," he breathed, more than an ounce of fury hiding behind his words. It was probably misplaced vanity, but he was not fond of scars at all.

"Do you like being alone?" she asked with a hint of distaste as she wrapped his hand. "You lost both your sons too, in such a like way. Why are you so quick to let go the only people who are willing to get close to you?"

"I never lost Scorpius," Draco replied through gritted teeth.

"You lost him to your father's wishes." She ripped off a piece of medical tape and finished off the wrapping with it. "You always wanted to please your father, but you never stood for the same things. You try to act like you do, but Sylvia never bought it. Alexandria accepted it as a sad fact, or maybe she just figured you were too sad to ever love again, but the fact is, you are not your father, Draco."

"You know _nothing_," he snapped at the woman, drawing his hand back. "And you better learn to hold your tongue, or you'll find yourself out of a job." With that, he turned to walk back, but he couldn't keep from hearing her last words reverberating behind him.

"You can't hate Blaine for not wanting to pretend he's someone who he's not, and you can't hate him for being like Sylvia. Your father is in jail for a reason, Draco."

This house was too quiet, Draco thought angrily.

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The night lasted a long time, and silence could only go for so long. It might have been a mutual resentment to awkward silences that kept the two of them talking, despite deep, open sores of differences.

"Who was the first person you killed?" Blaine asked with what might have been a mildly sick fascination. His voice was level and nonchalant, however, as he leaned against a tree, trying hard to keep from dozing off.

"My last set of foster parents when I was fourteen," she responded indifferently, her voice drowsy, her words mumbled as her cheek pressed into her fore-arm.

"I can't believe your parents took you in after that."

"You'd be surprised how understanding they were. How encouraging...," she let her voice trail off.

"I don't know if you really expect me to buy your act. This sad past, having horrible parents. It's no fucking excuse," he snapped at her.

Evlyn smiled at him; for the first time it was sincere. Light surprise co-mingling with amusement at his spontaneous profanity. "Not all of us are born good. I enjoy what I do. We covered this."

"There has to be something else."

"Sorry, Freud, but I'm really not up for a psychoanalysis right now." She sighed, then finally spoke again as if giving in. "I don't like doing what people to tell me to do. I like lying just because I can, just to see if people will believe me. I don't sympathize with other human beings, and I sure as Hell don't care about them. In my experience, they're only good for one thing, and that's betrayal. As Machiavelli inferred, it is better to rule with fear than love," she finally said, her eyes cool and distant now. She hardly looked as though she was keen on continuing the discussion.

"But you're not a ruler. You're just the ruler's pitbull," he replied with a disdainful air. Some Malfoy traits died hard, Evlyn noted.

She laughed at the analogy, rather than being offended by it. Regardless, there was an edge to her tone when she spoke again. "Not yet, I'm not. Dog is man's best friend, and he does trust me, the poor bloke. He's a little bit off his rocker, but you'd be surprised just how human he really is. He thinks we're alike, but he has no idea..."

"Why would you tell me this," Blaine replied, not a question, looking thoroughly bored now, as if he doubted everything that had just come out of her mouth. Maybe he had reason to feel that way; after all, she hardly seemed to be the dependable type.

"...Because, Malfoy... There's nothing in the world that you can do to stop me," she taunted, a ghost of a smirk dancing behind her serious face. Her eyes were like an endless dark abyss, haunting in how one could get lost in them. It wasn't the romantic sort of lost, either. It was more the sort of lost in which one might find themselves deep within the maze of a cavern, spending days in which they'd never know if they would live or die.

Theo was curled in the center of the field, awaiting dawn after he had killed a few frightened rabbits. Once all prey cleared the area, he was fairly tame with just himself as company. However, he did not have the sort of control a human might have over their mind.

And in this place, all alone, he couldn't seem to get the memories to go back to where they belonged in the back of his mind. Leaving Tem, seeing her at the house in which he had been living, shocked to find him gone. He had left without a trace, without even a 'good-bye' or a last 'I love you.' With everything said and done, he couldn't find much regret in it as he stood in the shadows, lurking where he shouldn't be, but he couldn't leave without at least seeing her one last time. He didn't feel regret because he knew it was for the best, that Tem was better off without him.

He was not a self-deprecating young man, but he didn't exactly lead the safest life. There was no place for her in it, or no place that he would have her go. The thought of her being harmed or injured because of him was not one that he could bear.

In retrospect, he wished that he could have protected her from everything that had happened after he left.

Then they were reunited once more and torn apart again, all because Theo trusted the wrong people. Some girl with limited intelligence who he had no real interest in kissed him, and then his friend, her boyfriend, made it his personal duty to kill Tem just to cause Theo harm. He left her to make sure it was apparent that she didn't matter to him, and from what he knew, she was still alive.

Now, in this feral state, he had a sudden urge to kill in the worst way possible. He wanted more than anything to inflict such pain on someone who he had mistakenly trusted to an extent- someone who had attempted to kill someone who he cared deeply about.

And then the feeling passed. The sun began to rise and he slowly changed back to human, all the bones and joints reversing their initial transformation, but this time he yearned for the feeling, just because he could be human again.


	6. Chapter 6

Evlyn smiled to herself as she landed on the ground in a crouch, her feet hitting the dirt with a mild thud. _I'm back,_ she thought to herself with a mild sense of contempt. She turned around and looked at the two of them, the knife that Blaine had given her tucked under the waistband of her skinny jeans. It was a peculiar appearance, that she should be so fond of muggle clothing. "Where to now?" she inquired coyly, a light smirk playing on the edges of her lips.

"To lock you up," Theo responded with an arched eyebrow. He motioned Blaine over. "And if you haven't already, I'd get your knife off her..." To this, Blaine cursed. Theo nodded, rolling his eyes. "Smooth, Malfoy."

Evlyn slid it out from her waistband, waving it back and forth. "You could just ask for it, sweetheart. A little bit of politeness goes a long way..." Her smile was devilish at this, a very faint hint of mania behind her eyes. Everything practically screamed that she was back to herself, and if she were to have to go out, she would enjoy nothing more than to go out fighting.

"Hand it over, then," Blaine replied coolly, walking forward with his hand out. In response, Evlyn scrunched her nose, a glimmer in her eye as she broke out in a grin.

"Nah, I don't think so," she replied, snapping the hilt into the palm of her hand as she took a more offensive stance. Blaine looked faintly aggravated, but not by much, moving forward to grab her arm and take the blade from the other...

But he was too slow.

In a fraction of a moment, Evlyn had the knife at his throat. "You should have killed me when you had the chance...," she breathed disdainfully, not without some measure of enjoyment.

"Would you really enjoy killing me?" he replied, stone cold and unaffected by his own blade at his throat. It put the girl off only slightly, his lack of panic. Then again, he too was raised in a house of dark wizards.

She guessed that came with the territory.

Evlyn scoffed, her eyes darkening. "You know that time in your life when you have to decide whether you care or you want to go insane? I chose insanity, and I'd rather enjoy the kind of crap most people squirm at. It's liberating, you know, never feeling confined by the risk of guilt or grief." She smiled over at Theo, who already had a throwing knife off the band of his jeans. "Did you know that it only takes two fingers to slit someone's throat?" she asked, her voice a pinnacle of false innocence.

Theo's eyes narrowed as he smirked, almost as disaffected as Blaine, except more vengeful. There was a layer under him that seemed to be bursting with anger. "Well, yeah," he scoffed in distaste. "I am a trained killer, after all."

"Then _what_ exactly is it that you think you'll be able to do, darling?" she replied, her eyes flicking up to meet his for a moment. "By the time your knife reaches a vital organ of mine, your friend will be dead on the ground..." And maybe it was the seriousness of her voice, the look in her eye, or the past of all her actions that finally made Blaine clench his jaw and swallow.

"I can either let you kill him and get away with it, or kill you for it," Theo responded lightly, but there was a serrated edge to his tone. "Casualties happen."

"_Theo_!" Blaine shouted, his aggravation finally burning through. Evlyn smiled slightly at the scene she was making, feeling no shame in it at all.

"Fauve," Theo called over softly, a gleam to his eyes now that wasn't there before, "if I were to aim a knife at you, it wouldn't be a vital organ. If you do kill my friend, you're not going to be let off that easy... I don't have a lot of friends. I'd like to keep them at all costs, and if I can't, then I'll certainly make you pay."

Evlyn smiled over at him coyly, then letting her eyes wander once more to Blaine. "Who said anything about going through with killing anyone, anyway? I told him to ask politely, and he never did... Now, if he keeps this up...," she let her voice trail off, pressing the knife dangerously close to his jugular, moving her body even closer to his. Everything about her body language and voice was taunting them, as if she only thought of this as a game forged to amuse her.

"Is everything a game to you?" Blaine hissed through his teeth, keeping his body as still as possible. He was putting all his faith (which wasn't much) into trusting Theo into manipulating him out of this one, but Theo so far only seemed to be playing with fire. "People's lives? Do they _really_ mean _nothing_ to you?"

Evlyn laughed at the question in honest surprise. "Are you _really_ asking me that?" she asked, an amused smirk spreading over her face. "Why," she began to croon, "do you really care about every living person overpopulating the Earth?"

"I think you should just ask her nicely, Malfoy...," Theo finally called from the other side of the hill. He sounded amused. Blaine grimaced.

He did not let the silence to go without a long, healthy pause.

"Please give it back to me, Evlyn," he finally breathed, his jaw clenching again. She pressed the hilt into the hand that wasn't on her other arm, pressing his fingers around it.

"There you are, sweetheart," she responded, and with that, she turned and walked away.

Theo jogged up to stand next to Blaine, a glint in his eye as he watched her walk away. "You alright?" he asked, eyeing the blood that was trickling down his neck. It wasn't much, merely a trickle, and the cut was shallow to begin with.

"Fine," he answered stiffly, wiping the blood away with his sleeve. "Her point, however, I don't understand at all."

Theo grinned, only the slightest hesitation suggesting he wanted the girl out of their hair as soon as possible. That wasn't to say he wasn't amused. "She wanted to prove she could kill you, Malfoy." Blaine shot him a look, only encouraging him to go further. "And from where I was standing, it definitely looked like she could."

Blaine's serious, unfaltering expression caused Theo's grin to fade if only slightly. His questioning expression finally led to Blaine continuing. "Listen, when you were gone the other night, she started telling me she's planning to stage a coup."

Against any prediction of Blaine's, Theo laughed. "She's planning on overthrowing the Dark Lord? God, I don't know which is worse... Good thing I don't live in the Wizarding World. Tough break, Malfoy..."

"This will affect you too."

Theo sighed. "I know. What do you want to do? Take her out now?" he replied, eyeing her back without an ounce of second thought.

"No." Blaine was also watching her, his words spoken with a measure of unease. She turned to look at the two, sensing the fact that they weren't following her, weren't even close behind. There was something beneath her calm, unaffected facade, a kind of betrayed anger.

Maybe something like hurt, but not quite. Something angrier, more dangerous.

"Don't even tell me you're getting soft, Malfoy."

"I'm not."

* * *

Blaine and Theo stood in an office, a formal place with people wearing dress robes and filing paperwork. In the center of the bold, broad room sat a handsome man with messy dark hair and looks somewhat like one Harry Potter's, except, where his father's eyes had been green, his were a dark doe brown. Theo was leaning against a filing cabinet, completely undeterred from doing so despite Malfoy's looks and the formality of everyone else around them. He feigned an interest in his nails (which were broken and somewhat dirty having spent the past couple weeks sleeping on the ground), giving the appearance that the only reason he was there was for the paycheck.

James Potter didn't like Blaine Malfoy too much- call it what you will, but he didn't regard them to be on any high standards, Gryffindor or not. Of course his opinion of Blaine was higher than that of his brother, but it also didn't change a few other details. The two young men who stood before him were hired out mercenaries for the Order. Of course this was never how it ran in the past, but the new head had certainly changed some things around. Maybe it was for the better, but that's all James would give it: _Maybe._

At the very least, it cleared a few consciences and protected friends from unnecessary risks.

James leaned over and put two bags of galleons on his desk, his quill poised over a folder. It was stamped in red ink that shifted every few seconds between two boldfaced words.

**CLASSIFIED**

**DON'T READ**

James opened it up and motioned for the two to sit down. Blaine nodded politely whereas Theo just raised an eyebrow and stayed put. "Runner, do us all a favor and stop acting like a prick for five minutes," he snapped at the younger man, his patience waning if ever so slightly.

"You're going to make me stay longer, and I might have somewhere to be...," he let his voice trail off. Blaine snorted derisively and looked behind himself for a second. Theo finally sighed and took a seat with exaggerated movements, as though it were a great pain to him.

"Operative word there being 'might.' I think we all know that implies Theo over here has absolutely nowhere else to be and just takes a liking to being a thorn in all of our sides," chirped a voice from a female who had just entered, to which James smiled ruefully. His younger cousin, Rose Weasley had insisted upon joining up with the Order despite everyone's aversion to it. She was just out of Hogwarts at the time.

"You give me too much credit. I was just trying to be polite. Now, if I said I definitely had somewhere to be, you might feel rushed...," he replied with a sort of infuriating nonchalance. "Anyway, where's Robespierre?"

"Funny, Runner," James replied, having taken enough Muggle Studies to understand the reference. In fact, not even he himself had entire faith in the Head of the Order's sanity. "We just thought you would actually be interested in this debriefing since obviously, it's not exactly the usual. Then again, I don't know why we bother. Blaine is the only one who ever pays attention, and shockingly he's a Malfoy. No offense," he added with a quick glance to Blaine.

"None taken."

"Anyway, we found some files in her parents' house. I don't know if you know, but they went missing about a month ago, and they were recently discovered in their own house, their bodies mummified."

Theo laughed against all good grace at the unexpected detail and the somberness of his tone. "Oh, you were serious... Do go on."

James eyed him, then finally looked down at the printed sheet on top of the folder. "With it was a note that read, 'I don't want them to move, not even in death.'" Blaine exchanged a look with Theo, and then they both returned their gazes to James. "From what we can tell, she used acceleration spells to quicken the process. After going through their house, we found a mess of files, this one among them. It had her name on it, and the profile of her read 'Failed Experiment.'

"Their alliances, albeit unexpectedly, were paralleled with Nero's." A few flinches passed through the room, but James only rolled his eyes. The name wasn't even tabooed....yet. "They were trying to create an assassin of sorts for their side. This new Reign has been in the making for well over eighteen years, it seems. You can look at the file." He turned it around so the papers were facing them. "But I warn you, a lot of it is pretty disturbing.

"Her parents left her alone in the house to fend for herself when she was young- with the occasional visit from a hired nanny. That's how she ended up in muggle foster care; there had been rumors of a child living alone. See, that's a tricky system in itself. You can't let foster parents know of our world; it's not like birth or adoptive parents. You can tell them they've been accepted into boarding school, but some foster parents prefer to have the child close by, in the schools they might very well have grown up in. So that's why she was in and out of Hogwarts. She always caught up, and would occasionally go back to live with her parents. From all we knew, they were just traveling diplomats. Obviously, that's far from the case."

"But she wasn't a failed experiment," Blaine intoned apathetically, flipping through the papers as he scanned them, Theo's eyes trained on everything over his shoulder. "She killed in the worst ways for the League of Dark Wizardry."

"She never turned out to be loyal like they wanted her to be. She proved that with her parents, didn't she? She's not like an attack dog, so to speak. She was recorded time and time again as being disaffected and detached. She went in and out of muggle therapy, but she couldn't technically be considered what the psychiatrists or psychologists deemed her to be 'budding' as, because she was not yet eighteen. Antisocial Personality Disorder, psychopathy, sociopathy, all based on whichever their personal preference, but for as far as our interests are concerned- all basically the same thing."

"Did they _really_ need a _specialist_ for that?" Theo replied with a healthy measure of derision. Then he added on a second thought, "She's not a very good sociopath. Aren't they supposed to be suave and manipulative?"

"I have a feeling that she didn't even begin to scratch the surface of herself with you two. After all, you look unharmed." His eyes suddenly found Blaine's throat and barely concealed a smirk. ...Old habits. "Fairly."

* * *

I am afraid  
Some dreadful purpose is forming in her mind. She is  
A frightening woman; no one who makes an enemy  
Of her will carry off an easy victory.  
-Medea, _Euripides_

The moment that they had arrived at the Barracks (Evlyn had no other way to describe it, and she had no idea that this was what the Headquarters of the Order actually was, although she assumed it had been moved from the Black family manor) several guards had come forth to handcuff Evlyn with what looked like dark shadows. They wound their way up her arms and burned her skin, but left the surface unscathed. It was a deeper pain, like it was scarring from underneath. It burned with such intensity that she clenched her teeth rather than emitting the taunting words that had originally come to mind.

_You could have just asked._

The pain was so distracting that she hardly could concentrate on walking, and was thus half dragged all the way to the main doorway and down into the dungeons where they kept all their prisoners. The most dangerous criminals were kept in the deepest tunnels, lit only by green torches on the walls. In this light her guards looked sallow with a hint of green tinge, like they had spent too much time on a ship at sea. The one, she noted, was missing an eye and did not take care to replace it with a synthetic magical one. Instead, there was only a shadowy pit on one side of his face.

He caught her looking amidst dragging her along and growled. Had Evlyn had any voice to speak, any dignity left to utilize, she would have contrived a snide rebuttal.

As it was, she had nothing and almost wanted to die from the humiliation. Almost.

Even more than that, she wanted to make them pay.

Finally, she was thrown into a cell, barred and tiny, the laces that had cuffed her hands winding back like a snake retracting from an attack. She was gasping from the sudden relinquishing of the pain, and she turned her body from her crouching position. "The two of you together couldn't handle a little girl?" she whispered with a tone, something dark and demonic, void of all amusement or even a flicker of good humor.

The two looked at each other and grinned, sick and twisted in their way, the skin on the one-eyed man's face crinkling up around his empty eye socket. They both pulled out their wands, and had Evlyn had any sense, she would have backed away. As it turned out, all she had was pride, and this was not a blessing given the current situation.

"How many people have ye killed, eh, girl?" the one said gruffly, the same twisted smirk still on his face. "Just common curiosity."

"Lost count."

"'ow about tortured then?" One-eyed asked, a tone belying his words that sent a wave of fury through Evlyn's nerves.

"Never bothered to start counting."

"Does it ever pull at yer conscience?"

"How about you? Do you feel bad for all the Phoenix Taxes? People starving in the streets while you live in luxury, turning their hard-earned coins into blood money? Do you know what happens to people who can't afford to pay the taxes? Oh, yes... You're probably the same people who drag them out of their houses kicking and screaming and crying. So, what floor do you keep them on? Am I going to have to listen to children crying when I try to sleep tonight, or will you all be kind enough to execute me before then?"

The two of them looked irate, like she had uttered the most profane insult, an utterly offensive set of words that were not only horrendous, but also completely untrue. Except they were true, and the state of denial was often the most easily infuriated. People would do anything to protect their own sanity.

"We don' go on killing sprees," the one said, his eyes darkening behind a shadow as he tilted his head. "And no, yer not going to be executed tonight."

"Oh no," she replied, an unamused smirk tainting her expression. "You just make them live as long as they can while rotting away in prison. I think I'm the more merciful one here."

"Hold yer tongue!" the one-eyed man roared, his wand tip pointed at her throat.

"The truth hurts, it seems," she replied with a small, bitter smile, her head cocked to one side.

"_Crucio!_" he shouted, and the end of his word was drowned out by her nearly instantaneous screams. When he lowered his wand, her gasping for breath merged with half-hysterical laughing, some fits of giggles coming with every breath.

"You don't quite have it in you to properly hold out a dark spell...," she intoned somberly, but a half-insane smile contradicted her words.

"I'm okay with that," he replied gruffly, and he left her cell and slammed the iron bars shut. They began walking away, and Evlyn pulled herself up and then sat against the stone wall, singsonging to herself between dark chuckles.

She would have her way.

* * *

"People should not be afraid of their governments;  
governments should be afraid of their people."  
-V for Vendetta

Even with having not grown up in the wizarding world and feeling no sentimental attachment to it as Blaine must have, Theo had heard of all the stories that surrounded the Potter name. How Lily and James Potter (the firsts, he supposed) had died to protect their son, Harry, and how Harry was protected by that charm as old as time. Then when Voldemort had turned his wand on Harry, the spell had ricocheted and hit himself.

But Voldemort too could not die, however, this had nothing to do with white magic, but dark. He had split his soul into seven pieces, and as long as they were not destroyed, he could not die. Theo's thoughts briefly flicked to his father and how much he just simply did not begin to grasp. All of this was deeply complicated; not all witches or wizards were heathens stirring malignant potions in the dead of the night.

Some were, but not all.

Then again, the young man also doubted whether it would have made much of a difference to his father had be known. After all, he left his wife for it. It was probably the only woman he had ever loved, or in the way that his father loved, anyway. He did not know how he had become a hunter, besides family tradition, or what happened down the road that sent the family into such a dark task, and he had always had enough sense not to ask. It wasn't something that he really wanted to know, because he knew what vehemence and zeal and blind faith in one soul purpose could do to people.

"So, Runner, will you fight with us?" James' words brought him back to the present, and to this he only looked the slightly older boy in the eye, finally shaking his head after a moment.

"Not to be rude here, but it's really not my problem," he replied coolly, reaching forward to take his bag of galleons from the desk. James' hand stopped him. Theo had no intention to looking to his left to see Blaine's expression. For some reason, he doubted the other was on the same page as him, and he would not sway and potentially put his life at risk free of charge for a cause he didn't believe in just because his friend supported it.

"In a minute, you can go. But do you even _realize_ what is at stake here?"

"Sure I do. You're all fighting for power, and I'm staying out of it. Keep pressuring me, though, and maybe I'll join the other side," he added darkly.

"Theo," Blaine began, a note of irritation evident in his usually composed voice, "just hear him out. That's all."

Theo wheeled on Blaine, a spark to his eye. "Why? Last I checked, people were dragged from their houses because they were thought to be supporters of the Dark Lord, just because they can't pay the Phoenix Taxes. I wasn't born into this world, and I sure as hell don't give a damn what goes on with the lot of you. Just don't act like I'm out of line when you people aren't even any better than the side you're fighting."

"That's...We're doing the best we can. We can't trust anyone anymore; how are we to know who is who?" James countered with an edge to his tone, and Theo laughed mirthlessly.

"Probably the ones who _are_ paying the taxes is my guess."

Two guards came forward to grab Theo, but he jumped backward, pulling a knife forth. Blaine sighed, reaching for the hilt of his sword. "We can either force you to come down to the dungeons, or you can come freely."

"That's not necessary!" James snapped, drawing his wand. "Stand down."

_CRACK!_

"Bloody hell," Rose muttered from across the room, her eyes wide with faint surprise.

Someone had apparated into the room, someone with long dark brown hair tied back behind his neck, wearing long dark blue robes, and whose wand was also drawn. "I ordered it, James. I, on the other hand, think it's highly necessary. He is, after all, a highly skilled mercenary who is also quite dangerous, and has just now proven to be aligned with the dark side. Take him down to the cells, gentlemen."

Theo rolled his eyes upward. "What did I say," he murmured beneath his breath. The man flicked his wand, and Theo's knife was sent flying to the other side of the room. With another flick, his belt vanished and appeared again a safe distance away.

James turned on the man, his eyes lighting up. "This isn't right," he replied, holding his wand, and when the man tried his trick again, James held fast. Diplomatic conversation wasn't going to get him far. "_Expelliarmus_!" he roared, and although the man was thrown backwards, he too held fast onto his wand. He jumped up in a moment, as though he felt no pain, and pointed his wand back at James.

"_Crucio!_" he shouted, just as James screamed, "_Protego!_" but James' spell was sent just a moment too late, and he was sent writhing on the floor, moaning in agony as he tried to grit his teeth against the screams. The man walked toward James, smiling cruelly as he held the spell fast. "You're not your father. You don't have the protection he had, and you're not special. I am great, and you are _nothing_; do you hear-" Rose had drawn her wand.

"_Stupefy!_" but the voice was Blaine's. He looked at her across the room, and she nodded, pocketing her own wand before anyone else noticed. She really was the brightest witch of her age, just like her mother had been. One guard grabbed Blaine as another muttered, "_Ennervate_," and James, Blaine, and Theo were all dragged, struggling, down to the prison cells.

* * *

A/N: I...don't really know what sent me to make the guards talk pirate, but I think it was the missing eye. I also acknowledge I must work on my pirate, as it seems I am not flawlessly fluent in the dialect. Oh, and that how many fingers it takes to slit someone's throat was borrowed (remembered, more like) back from the Draco Trilogy, and if you know where _she_ got it from, let me know, and I'll amend this. I don't even know if that was original to her fic, or if it was even credited.


	7. Chapter 7

Her amusement had quickly faded to anger with the guards' leaving. Something inside of herself always seemed to be conflicting with another, like there were too many voices for one body. She looked up at the ceiling. _I've gone completely mad,_ she thought to herself. _Get a grip,_ said the other part, and she knew she had to listen to it. She had come too far to back out now, to die before she had accomplished anything. Too many people had died at her hands all for naught if she rotted away in here.

She knew what they thought of her and what she let them believe, but for someone who detested lies so greatly, she dealt mainly in deception. She was not a sociopath, not completely. Although she suffered somewhat from emotional insanity, she did not care as little as she would have liked to. If there were someone or something worth being good for, she might have tried it, but she was not good by nature. At a very young age she understood she was her parents' guinea pig, and maybe stumbling upon the files is what made her a failed experiment, but she didn't think so. They dragged all fear and love out of her heart, and so there was nothing left to form loyalties with.

But if that was so, why did she hate them so much, even after they were dead and immobile? Those that betrayed her never faired well.

She shrugged her shoulders, crossing her arms over her chest as she continued to study the ceiling, boards of wood stabilizing the stone. She then saw a few small fingers peeking their way through a gap between stone slabs, and her eyes narrowed. "Get your fingers out of there, kid, or the rock might shift and crush them. I don't want to have to hear you scream." The hand withdrew quickly, and Evlyn smirked without any real humor.

"What's your name?" it asked, and the young woman scowled, not bothering to reply. After awhile, she thought the little voice had given up, but as it turned out, she wasn't that lucky. "Mine's Alyssa." It was an insistent little thing.

"I'm really not up for casual conversation with twelve year olds."

"If there's any chance you get out, will you help us? Please? We haven't done anything wrong. We don't follow the Dark Lord."

"I do," Evlyn replied, a mocking tone in her voice as she leaned her head back against the stone, ignoring the steady pain that seeped into her skull as she did so, and shut her eyes.

"Please."

"You're asking the wrong person for help."

"It's okay. I understand. I've been up here a long time, and I barely notice the hunger pains anymore when they stop giving us meals for whatever reason. You have to look out for yourself. I think I'm ready to die."

"You're _what_?! Shut up, kid. You don't know what you're talking about." Her eyes had snapped open, and her tone was vicious. What was this kid getting up? This was great. She had an immature, self-pitying moron sitting above her.

"I think I've been up here longer than you," she continued tonelessly. "There isn't a way out, and they'd kill us if we'd try to escape."

"There is _always_ a way out," she replied adamantly. Something was forming somewhere behind her ribcage, some kind of determination, but it wasn't just for getting herself out.

"They'll kill you."

"They'll kill me either way, so I guess it's all fine and dandy."

"Why? What did you do wrong?"

"I killed more than a few people."

"So did they," she replied, the some tonelessness accompanying her words. Evlyn was beginning to grow frustrated with the girl's despondence.

"What do you know?" Evlyn inquired as she stood up and began studying the bars and hinges of her cell. "Tell me everything you've heard."

"They've been making assassinations and killings in the middle of the night. Like they do with us, except it's not just for not paying the taxes. Witches and wizards have been staging riots against the new Order and its hold over the Ministry. They just kill them all at once and cover it up so no one remembers. That's what the word is, and I can see through a little nook to the outside. They bury them all in mass graves."

"Alyssa...," Evlyn began, "describe to me _everything_ you can see outside, down to every detail. If I start coughing, stop immediately. It means a guard is coming."

"Alright... There's a path leading from a door that is a floor up and to my left. There are stairs that lead down. The path is dirt, no stone. It's a large opening with towers with guards in them, a large pit with dirt piled up on the side, and a ravine that flows right by the little opening. Water leaks through the wall. There's very little covering in order to escape-"

And then Evlyn drowned her out with a fit of coughing, dropping to the ground just for dramatic measure as she heard footsteps at the end of the hall. "Quiet that racket!" one of them shouted and Evlyn slowly ceased her coughing. As they drew closer, she realized there was a whole pack of them, and upon coming even closer, she recognized the two of them as Theo and Blaine. The other, she assumed by familial traits, was one of the Potters.

They were each tossed unceremoniously into the three cells to her left, and Evlyn leaned against the wall. "You should've taken the money, boys."

"Quiet, y'murderer! We'll be back for ye. Yer only bein' kept alive so long as we kin get information out of ye..." And with one last disgusted look, they left the cells. Evlyn waited until they were out of earshot, and then she turned to the two.

"So this place is built into the side of a hill?" she asked, picking up a rock and looking from it to the bars of her cell.

"How'd you know that?" Blaine asked, his eyes narrowing. "You only saw the front."

She didn't respond, only studied the rock, then, without any warning, chucked it between the bars. It exploded, shattering into a thousand tiny pieces that flew everywhere. She shielded herself with her forearm, but it didn't keep her safe from harm. The sharp, ragged edges of the stone cut into her flesh, but she merely tightened her jaw and wiped her arm on her pant-leg.

"Charming," Theo noted, standing up and walking to the front of his cell as he peered over at what was left of the rock. "Anyone want to volunteer for further testing. I'm thinking sticking a hand through. James?"

"I stood up for you, you git," he replied easily, but narrowed his eyes at Theo. Theo didn't seem to notice.

"You didn't exactly do it in the best fashion. Now you're locked up with us."

"Rose isn't," Blaine murmured. "I think we're okay on that count. Theo, lay off James. He's on our side."

"I don't have a side," Theo responded with a measure of contemptuousness.

"How long do you think we'll be down here?" Blaine asked, looking at James. He didn't respond, and instead broke out in a song.

"99 bottles of butterbeer on the wall!" he began, and then Blaine and Theo eventually joined in, discordant at first, but eventually becoming somewhat harmonious. Somewhat. "Take one down, pass it around... 98 bottles of butterbeer on the wall."

Evlyn rolled her eyes up at the ceiling. "This is karma, isn't it," she muttered to herself, not a question.

After eventually being pressured into joining in, they were all singing the song, albeit badly, and then each broke off quickly as a shadow at the end of the tunnel preceded the sound of footsteps.

* * *

Harry Potter was sitting at a desk filing paperwork. His auror responsibilities had grown tremendously; everyone he spoke to seemed to have not the faintest idea why. Call it a midlife crisis, but he wasn't believing everything he was hearing. Of course he had a couple new generation Order friends (or his son and Ron and Hermione's daughter, but he would take what he could get), but for some reason there was some kind of feeling pooling deep in his chest that all was not well. He stood up, stretching his back just as Ginny walked in. "Uh..Hi, Gin," he greeted with a crooked smile, and her eyes narrowed.

"Where are you off to?" she asked suspiciously, and he was always amazed how beautiful she was. Of course witches and wizards aged better than your average muggles, but it went deeper than that. She had an inner beauty as well as an outer one.

"The Ministry. There are some things that I need to clear up. Then I'm going to go talk to James. Have you heard from Al?"

"No. I haven't," she said, a tad bit worriedly. "I've been hearing awful things, Harry. Everyone I've asked says they're just suspicions, but I don't know...."

"I'm with you there," Harry responded in a measured tone, but let his hand hold her cheek. "Don't worry, okay?" He then turned around to leave.

"Harry," she said, and he turned to look over his shoulder once more. "Don't do anything rash."

"Are you the same Ginny?"

"Without me," and with that, she grinned at him and he returned her rueful smile. He turned away quickly, not responding to her request as he walked out the door.

The Ministry was cold and bleak. It was more of an aura, since the air conditioning system didn't even exist, and no one had bothered with cooling spells with the fair weather. He made his way quickly across the polished stone far, straight through the winding hallways, into elevators, and to the Aurors' Office, occasionally pausing for the brief greeting with old school friends. He walked over to his cubicle, stacked high with papers and littered with post-it like notes, and gathered everything that could be of use to him.

Then there was something in the corner of his eye, something yellow and almost papery, with a pointed edge that was aimed directly at his temple. He ducked down quickly with what was left of his Seeker reflexes, and then looked back up to see an embarrassed face. "Sorry, Harry. You know these flying notes...," Neville remarked, letting his voice trail off. Suffice it to say, over the years Harry had grown incredibly proud of the man. He was one of the best aurors that they had.

"Yeah, I know," he said, briefly deliberating whether or not he should share his suspicions or not, and then decided that due to the safety of his friends, he should keep his mouth shut.

"Guess it beats owl droppings, eh? That's what I heard they used to have going... Listen, Harry," he began, letting his voice drop. Harry cringed as he anticipated the topic change, "I've been hearing things, and I know you have too. And whatever you're about to do- don't even try to deny it, your face is like an open book and always has been- don't do it alone. Don't do that to us again, Harry. You don't have any protection anymore, and sure, you're a great wizard; you always have been, but you're older now. More powerful, maybe, but your reflexes aren't what they used to be."

"That's no fair; I ducked that note, didn't I?" he replied with a wry smile.

"Don't change the topic. The Order has gone to the other side and back since Zacharias took it over. The man is paranoid, Harry. Paranoid and ruthless."

"I'm not risking getting my friends killed again."

"I'm afraid that you don't have much say in the matter, mate," came a voice from behind him, and when he turned, he was faced with Ron Weasley. Hermione was close behind.

"Oh, Harry! When we heard you were in the Ministry we came right away from the cafeteria. It's been weeks. What've you been doing?"

"Research," he replied as he looked down at his notes, suddenly feeling very awkward for a grown man.

"What do you say we bring back Dumbledore's Army, Harry?" Ron finally said with a bit of a grin.

* * *

As the body drew closer, they all seemed to note with some measure of relief, it was obvious that it was small and slender, not the big, bulky torso of a guard. She was now walking practically on her toes to make less noise, glancing at them all in a worried way, and looked a little bit like a panic-stricken red-haired bird. Evlyn turned her gaze to the way Blaine was looking at her and scowled, then turned away. She was not expecting any kind of kinship from the lot of them, no sort of loyalty or help... and yet, for whatever reason, good or evil, she was desperate. In the end though, her pride won out, and she vowed to not let it show.

Rose pulled out her wand and muttered an incantation before coming any closer, an incantation that she must have gotten from one of the guards. Then she walked forward, tapping the lock with her wand and murmuring, "Alohomora." The lock slid open and Rose moved on to the next cell, motioning the boys to come with her. Evlyn arched an eyebrow at that. It was very simple magic to be locking away dangerous criminals with. Then again, no dark wizard would suspect something so simple, and it would doubtless buy the other side some time. They walked purposefully, as if whatever they were about to do was actually meaningful, and without a backward glance at the dark witch they were leaving behind.

Evlyn's hands finally clasped the bars as she watched them walk away, finally building up the nerve to call out after them. "There are innocent people upstairs," and they only looked at her with derision and doubt, all exchanging equally skeptical glances. She couldn't blame them, but let off a line of swearwords nonetheless, her desperation reaching new heights.

"It's okay," said the voice above her, but it brought her no peace of mind. She was tempted to say something particularly rude to the kid. "But I think I lied before, anyway. I'm not ready to die. What's your name? You never did tell me."

"You'd best not know that. And it's not okay. Your life for the moment is connected to my life, and I need to get out."

"I think I know." The voice was darker now. "We all hear what goes on, from the guards or from eavesdropping or both. You're Evlyn Fauve, aren't you? That murderess...," she intoned lightly, no fear or awe in her voice. Just...nothing.

"Yes," Evlyn replied in a breath, perching on her toes to study the joint in the metal. It was built very much like a cage, but it was rusted dangerously. For the first time in a long time, Evlyn grinned, but she did not bring her hands to the area to attempt to break it. Instead, she brought them above her head in order to grasp the rafters above her head, and lifted her legs in order to kick it.

It was no use. She was weak without a proper meal, and even the weakest joint in the cell wouldn't budge for her.

After the brief silence following the clanging of metal, the girl finally spoke again. "So what did you do, exactly?"

"I don't think that's age appropriate. Shouldn't you be asking for a bedtime story instead?" Evlyn responded with an edge to her tone.

"You don't exactly seem the type to tell fairy tales. Forgive me," the girl responded with a sarcastic note, and Evlyn smiled in an amused way. Not that it mattered. Neither could see the other.

"Nonsense," she replied. Then paused as she seemed to be revoking the words from memory. "Once upon a time there was a princess who lived merrily in a castle with her mother and father and all the love in the world, and anything she could possibly want besides. All her life was wonderful and pleasant, but as it often does, it all came crashing down.

"There was an evil queen who was only filled with jealousy, rage, and spite. She and her army stormed the castle and killed the king and queen, and the princess was left orphaned. The evil queen put a curse on the girl and anyone who approached the castle to take all feeling from their heart, all love, hope, and dreams. Consequently, the princess felt nothing but hollowness for years.

"Then one day came when a prince arrived on a light gray, nearly white horse. He saw the princess gazing out her window when the queen materialized as a mist in front of him.

"'Forget it!' she had shrieked through a cackle. Her once-beautiful face was now contorted and twisted. 'That girl cannot feel, cannot love. And if you try to save her, you'll meet the same fate!' But the young man was adamant.

"'I will never know unless I try,' he replied with something that could have been bravery or foolishness, and stepped over the boundary and into the curse's gasp. He was not special, and he too met the same fate. They forgot who they were as time went on, all seeing and no feeling, all want with no love.

"There was no pain, no misery, but still the townspeople pitied them. The evil queen was contemptuous of the situation, but as time went on she just grew tired. As her disappointment grew, she finally removed the curse. No feeling with no pain was no use to her insatiable rage and jealousy; it was no punishment at all.

"So finally, she let the two live in peace and happiness, growing at long last to really love each other. Then she returned one day, and looked the princess square in the eye. 'You haven't the hardness to govern a country, and here you are, calling yourself a queen. You are dragged down by love and your King. You have a choice. You can either stay with him, or you can watch him die.'

"'I will stay with the man I love, even to the death,' she had replied stoutly, misinterpreting her words that they would both die. That was not the evil queen's intention at all. 'Then so be it," she had replied, and the next day, she had stabbed the princess's husband through the heart while the two had been dining.

"The evil queen left that night, and the princess had grown bitter with her years and her irreparable heart. On one hand, she made all the choices no one else could make, but on the other, she could no longer love. She loved her people in a way, but she never let it get in her way."

After some moments, Alyssa, who had been perfectly silent throughout the whole story, finally spoke. "That was sad."

"Oh?" Evlyn replied, mocking an air one might have while being mildly shocked. "I was going more for horrific, but I'll take what I can get."

"Which one are you?" Alyssa asked.

"What?" Evlyn replied, almost scoffing as she ran her hands through her hair, wondering how long it would take for the guards to put the entire place on lockdown. It was odd that they hadn't even come down yet.

"In the story," she continued persistently.

"The evil queen," the other, older one replied without even a pause to consider.

"You were really the princess, weren't you?"Alyssa responded, sounding drowsy even though it was not yet night. Hunger could do that.

"Every evil queen starts out as a princess, more or less innocent," she said in return, her eyes narrowing as she heard a loud crack. "But I have never fallen in love, and I never will...," she murmured, but Alyssa had heard the sound too.

"What was that?" she asked, and as the shadows drew closer to Evlyn and she could finally see them, she smiled for the second time that night.

"Scorpius," she greeted in a pleased sort of way.

* * *

"Wait," Rose said, her feet planting where they were, as they were almost at the exit of the brief, open-topped tunnels that led to the outside of the fortress. "Why would she say that there were people upstairs? Why not try to manipulate us into taking her with us?"

Blaine turned to face Rose, nearly wheeled on her, but when he spoke, his voice was somewhat gentle. Gentle maybe, but also very firm, and mildly acidic. "She _was_ trying to manipulate us. She's very good at it. Now she has you thinking that there's even an ounce of goodness in her, and there's really not..."

"Funny, Malfoy. A lot of us could say the same for you," Rose replied stubbornly, eyeing him. "And is it really worth it to risk allowing all those people to _die_ up there just because you don't want to look like you fell for her ploy?"

"It'll be _us_ dying up there if they catch us," he hissed back at her, and now it was James' turn to wheel on _him_.

"You know, it's funny. For a Gryffindor, you still think so much like a Slytherin... Guess some things just run too deep in your veins, eh?" James replied his eyebrows pulled together and his eyes narrowed. Blaine's face flushed hotly as he glared back at him.

"Too many Gryffindors get themselves killed because they can't let their pride take that they might come off too much 'like a Slytherin'. But if it means so much to the lot of you, we can go in there on this little suicide mission," he replied, looking at Theo for support.

"I'm on Blaine's side," he replied, his eyes only flicking at the lot of them for a moment before resuming their critical look at the sky above. Storm clouds were rolling in like an avalanche of the heavens. "I'd really rather not traipse back into the very confines I just escaped from and be like, "Hey guards, can you come over here and bind me up again? I'm feeling a little too free right now." But hey, whatever fuels your parade is just dandy with me."

"I hate mercenaries, you know," James replied through his teeth. "Do you two believe in _anything_? What about those peoples' _lives_?"

"That's a good point," Theo replied with a serene smile. "I do value the neck of a stranger over my own. Hold on a minute and I'll pull out my super-hero utility belt and then we can set off the Bat-light for backup. Do you think Bruce Wayne is around these parts?" James, Blaine, and Rose all looked equally lost. Theo rolled his eyes. "I'm not getting myself killed because of... because... Oh, fine. C'mon, Blaine. You know we'll never forgive ourselves if these two die a horribly nasty death."

Blaine nodded, pulling out his wand, but resting his free hand on the hilt hanging on his belt. "You know, James, that for a Gryffindor you're painfully stereotypical."

Rose spun around and broke into a run before stopping short. A band of figures had apparated right at the door leading down the dungeons, and they all seemed to lay eyes on each other simultaneously. Blaine walked forward first, then stopped abruptly as Theo's hand reached out and gripped the back of his shirt. "Who are they?" he asked under his breath, sensing that there was something wrong.

"That," Blaine began through his teeth, "is my dear brother, Scorpius."

Theo looked at James and Rose with a crooked smile. "You know, I'm sensing that his brother isn't so dear, despite his words..." They didn't seem to be paying attention. From the smirks and dark looks on the faces of the people afore them, Theo also noted that they were probably a pretty nasty bunch.

"Well, hello Blaine," the one with the silvery-blond hair called, almost like a catcall as he stalked forward, a smirk playing on his features. "No letters, no visits. Here I thought something horrible had happened to you." The people behind him strode forward as well, wands at the ready, looking as if they very much wanted to do something hideously awful. Scorpius put up his hand as his face hardened, giving them a look out of the corner of his eye. "Don't touch him," he hissed. He looked over the lot of them. "The son of the Chosen One, the half-blood blood-traitor, and from what I've heard, your only friend, the half blood filth...," he drawled, his smirk staying quite still as his eyes rested on his brother. "Might want to learn to keep better company."

James looked at him and rolled his eyes, seemingly unimpressed. "The pot calling the kettle black, I see. Let's have a look at _your_ friends. I should have hexed you more back in Hogwarts. You weren't nearly this arrogant when I was around. Then again, I _was_ a year older..."

Scorpius' wand was out in an instant and at James' throat, no more smirk on his face at this point, only intense dislike. "They'll kill the girl if I tell them to. I'd watch what I said from this point on." James looked angry, but swallowed his retort. There was a time and a place for payback, and this was not it. He had to focus.

"Lower your wand," Blaine replied evenly, his voice acidic as his own wand was pointed at Scorpius.

Scorpius' eyes did not move from James' own. "Would you really do that, Blaine? Could you murder your own brother? I guess Theo Runner over here is rubbing off on you. He killed his own father, you know. He murdered one of his own family..."

"Oh, here it goes. Someone has gone around spilling all my secrets. I guess the cat's out of the bag, now," Theo replied, almost smirking, but somewhere behind his eyes there was a threatening spark. "Then again, _technically_ it was self defense." Scorpius turned his gaze to Theo, but didn't say anything yet. Being Theo, he saw there to be no other option but to keep going and poke some toes over a few lines. "Oh, and you forgot half-breed before when you called me a half blood. Then again, calling me 'half-breed, half-blood filth' doesn't sound nearly as articulate. And you can also bet that Blaine over here doesn't hate the company you take quite as much as he lets on. He seemed to like Fauve enough to kiss her. Not that I'm suggesting you kiss me. In fact, I really would rather you didn't. Ever."

"It. Was. An. Enchanted. Realm," Blaine emphasized clearly, his voice calmly irate, if there could be such a thing. His blue eyes were now glaring at Theo, but once they returned to Scorpius, they were met with his cold gray ones.

"Well, it seems we both have something we would rather get done before getting caught. So why don't we stay out of each others' way for the time being, and continue our little feud later?" Scorpius intoned evenly before turning to Theo. "And I do believe you have something of Evlyn's."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, now playing with a dagger and averting eye contact.

"Her wand, mudblood," he replied, saying the word as if it were no bother to say it at all. "Give it to me, or there _will_ be trouble."

Theo looked at him as though he were offended, sucking in a deep breath and widening his eyes. "That was unfit to be uttered in civilized society. You should be ashamed of yourself. Now, try it politely. You know my whole life story, so my name shouldn't be too much more difficult to pull from your memory."

"Civilized society? I would never use such a phrase to describe such filth. Nevertheless, my patience is waning, and my time is valuable. Would you give it to me, Runner?"

Theo tossed the wand to him unceremoniously, his green eyes glittering with cool amusement as he did so. "Here, you tool."

"Your muggle speech is incomprehensible to me," Scorpius replied with a twisted smirk, his eyes anything but friendly. He looked at his company and motioned with his hand. "Let's go," he commanded shortly.

"Not a charming fellow, that one," James observed coolly. "At least there will be more of a distraction with that lot."

* * *

Rose took in a deep breath as they all watched Scorpius' back go through the threshold, followed by one of his group. The other stayed outside; it was a woman with dark hair, red lips, and nearly black eyes. She looked at the lot of them with a sour expression, but made it more than apparent that her interest did not extend to them. She was only there to keep guard and send in a warning if need be. Then Rose took another thought at the subject: they weren't the type to warn. They would shoot to kill, then maybe ask questions later if they felt like it. "So," she began to James and the rest, "let's go now then. We haven't much time..."

James didn't need to be told twice, drawing out his wand as he jogged ahead of her through the threshold. Rose followed right after, and Blaine and Theo both followed grudgingly after that. "I don't like this, Theo," Blaine muttered to him as they went, to which Theo arched an eyebrow.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Malfoy," Theo replied, but couldn't help but feel the same insecurities. This could very well have been a trap. However, as they passed the hall, they caught sight of Scorpius heading down briskly toward Evlyn's cell. On another thought, that didn't mean anything. Theo pulled out one of his knives as they turned toward the staircase. A muffled scream echoed back and forth off the stone walls from just a little above them. Blaine and Theo exchanged a look and then began flying up the stairs.

One of the guards had Rose by the neck, her arm reaching for her wand in vain, but his grip around her was too tight. The other hand had his wand at her throat. The other guard was wand and wand with James, looking on the verge of breaking out in duel. Blaine had his wand out in an instant.

"_Expelliarmus_!" The wand of the guard holding Rose went flying, and his eyes became wide with shock. His expression quickly shifted to one of rage. He pulled out a short blade that had been tucked beneath his belt, and ran toward Blaine, knocking him off his feet before the boy could utter a spell. Rose bent down quickly, whisking her wand up off the ground, and pointing it at the bulky man with a flourish.

"_Stupify_!" she shouted. His body went limp, and from the other side, between the beams of light flashing between James and the other, the guard shouted "_Enervate_," and he picked himself back up. Blaine had gotten his wand back by this point, and the man, disoriented and in a corner, stumbled backward.

"'ello, poppet," Theo muttered in his ear, his knife sticking into his back as he fell forward again, his legs useless. He gave his knife a jerk as the man fell, and wiped it off on his pant-leg. When he looked up, he saw the brief look of shock on Rose's face and knew she had never seen anyone killed before. He pretended he hadn't and turned away. He wasn't the comforting type, nor did he ever intend to be.

"_Stupify_!" James roared, and the guard's stunned body fell backward and out the window, a soft swish of robes sounding in the otherwise soundless atmosphere.

"I typically try to keep the bodies _inside_ so as not to attract attention, but...," Theo let his voice train off as he peered out the window to see the guard's minuscule limp form on the ground way below. Without another moment's hesitation, they began jogging up the steps, Theo lingering a little ways behind.

Evlyn arched her eyebrow. "So, are you going to let me out now?" she responded with a sly grin, surveying Scorpius and the rest of the lot with a darkened expression in her eyes. Scorpius, she noticed, was carrying two wands. He tossed one to her between the bars. Rose had forgotten to put the curse back up, Evlyn noted. Smooth of her. She caught it, her eyes dropping down to admire it, then flicking upward once more.

"A simple _alohomora_ works just fine, but I've been a little cooped up...," she let her voice drift off, then backed up a few steps. "You might want to back up," she continued, and the rest of them walked up the hallway as she brought her wand down in a swoop, "_Diffindo_!" The entire cell blew apart at the hinges, and though it was quite a show, it had already been determined that the cells down here were no longer very strong. She began walking out of the rubble, then looked above her on second thought. "Alyssa, darling... I'd get to the side." Evlyn repeated the spell and shielded her mouth and eyes as the stone came crashing down, lifting up a cloud of debris. It soon cleared enough to see and breathe (barely), and the girl was looking down at her. She was ragged and thin, with wispy, tangled hair.

She paused for a moment, causing Evlyn to raise her eyebrows. "What about the others?" she asked, trying hard to keep her voice even.

"Rule number one, kid: Look out for number one, or die with the rest of them." The girl clenched her jaw and jumped down, landing in a bit of an awkward crouch. She stood up, arching an eyebrow as she met Evlyn's gaze. Evlyn couldn't help but be a little bit impressed. Not many people would do that, let alone kids.

"If that's rule number one, what's rule number two?"

"Rule number two is that rules are meant to be broken. But I strongly advise you to value your own life the most at this moment." She turned around, walking over the bits of stone and metal. "Which translates roughly to, 'Get moving.'"

As the four reached the holding cells above, they were faced with what seemed like an explosion at the end cell, and saw a girl jumping down. They lacked much time after that; everyone began making a desperate racket. Theo caught the back of James' jacket, preventing him from walking any further. "What's your problem?!" he hissed, but Theo's face stayed still.

"We can't take all these people with us. Or, you can take them with you, but you're responsible for them. Don't think that I'm having any part of it, and Blaine would be wise to stay out of it as well."

"I can't let them die," James responded, an edge behind his expression. "And I'll be responsible for them as long as necessary..."

"You know as well as I do that sometimes sacrifices are necessary," Theo responded through his teeth. He didn't want to let them all die either, but it would be all of them jeopardized if they took the whole lot of them along for the trip.

"You don't get it, Theo," James responded, calling the other by his first name. His voice sounded almost desperate. "I _am_ responsible for this. This is my _fault_. I didn't know. I could never look at my dad again if I let them die for my ignorance." Theo released his hold on his jacket and turned away. He looked up at the rusty hinges and gave one of the cells a hard kick. It gave a creaky crack, whining with the force. He kicked it again. It came down. The other three worked their way up and down, muttering 'alohomora' at every cell they came to.

* * *

**Credits:**

"'ello, poppet." -Do I really need to say it, guys? Pirates of the Caribbean. If you don't know that, I don't even know what to do with you. =o

"You should've taken the money," was a reference from the Chronicles of Riddick, for those of you that've seen it. Sometimes I make references to amuse myself and might forget to credit; let me know if you recognize something, and if it was intentional (and not vaguely related or a cliche), I'll add in a credit. ;]


	8. Chapter 8

The clouds had grown thicker, doing so behind their backs so that when they finally arrived outside again it looked as if about ready to storm. The air was heavy, and the temperature was inflated with humidity. Like a balloon being blown too full, the clouds were about ready to spill over, and the temperature was about ready to give way. The rain came down heavy and fast, without much drizzle working its way up. It was sudden and hard, and came down in debilitating sheets. It was the sort of weather that might render one as good as blind.

"What is this, baby sitting?" Scorpius had hissed before the rain had drowned out any retorts from Evlyn, not that she'd bother to make one. She simply gave him a look and kept walking, and the young girl had enough sense to follow close behind. She was about 10 or so, maybe a year or two older. Evlyn didn't look back to study her any more.

"She gave me information when I didn't know you were coming." The others exchanged looks- Avery, Nott. Their families had been dark in ages past, and would probably always continue to be.

"What?" Lana Nott began with a mock sort of surprise. Her voice was elevated to carry over the rain. "And you thought He would give up on you and let you lay? Oh, no, no... You mean far too much to him. Or, at the very least, He couldn't risk you spilling His secrets." She spoke the pronoun like it was relative to a deity, something great, but that was all a rouse. Something beneath her voice just sounded mocking.

Evlyn brushed back some of her wavy dark hair, hanging heavy with the weight it carried in rain water. The rain drops splattered her face and dripped down her skin in rivulets. "Well, that's good to hear then. It's really a shame that I'll have to kill him."

--

Blaine and Theo followed behind the caravan of people, looking out to each side. There was something wrong with the surroundings. There were no guards, no members of the Order trying to stop them. It was all too easy. Like a rubber band, Theo felt like if he became any more tense, he'd snap.

"Relax, Theo," Blaine hissed, giving him a chastising look.

"_What_?" the other replied, practically wheeling on him. He sounded exasperated and threw his hands up.

"You've been fidgeting with your hands and weapons for the past five minutes, and it's the most irritating thing in the world to see out of my peripheral vision."

"I'm sorry I'm disrupting your 'peripheral vision.' Who _says_ that, anyway? Why not be normal and say the corner of your eye or something?" he retorted as he crossed his arms over his chest. All truth be told, he hadn't even noticed he had been fidgeting.

"Why not be normal and stay _still_?" he replied, his annoyance finally creeping out into the open.

"It's a Malfoy thing to walk like the dead, isn't it?" James called back, obviously having overheard their conversation.

"The dead don't walk," was all Blaine said as he bent down to pick something up.

"Is that...a bomb?" Theo asked incredulously, taking a step forward to look at it before taking a few to back away from it.

"A _what_?" Blaine replied, his eyebrows raising. He might not have any idea what Theo was talking about, but he was far from assuming it was something good.

"I wouldn't move if I were you...," Theo murmured in response, tilting his head to peer at it from a distance.

--

"I would stop and _think_ about what you just said," Scorpius hissed at her, his wand drawn to her throat. Evlyn rolled her eyes, but didn't dare move.

When she met his gaze, her voice was soft. "You know as well as I do that his madness affects his better judgment. When this all ends with him in charge, we'll all be dead." Scorpius didn't respond, but Evlyn wasn't about to let it go.

"We can kill you," Lana replied lightly, "right here for such treachery. Do you really think we can _all_ be manipulated by you? You're outnumbered, darling. You were never particularly talented or powerful, just ruthless."

Evlyn's eyes flashed before she turned her gaze to Lana. They weren't so different with the exception that where Lana would back the sure winner, Evlyn would gamble for her own gain even if it meant greater loss. "Go ahead and try. You'll falter or pause, and then that will be the death of you. I don't particularly care for most of you, so you're either with me or against me. I will get out of here alive, and I will kill him."

Her clothing was almost completely soaking wet, and she was shivering now. Try as she might to keep her body as still as possible, it was all for naught. Just then she heard a terrified squeak from behind herself, and when she turned, Henry Nott had Alyssa by the hair. "But we could kill her."

"And then right after you would be in the same position you were before, unless you intend to use her dead body as a shield," Evlyn responded carelessly. Her heart was racing as she turned her back on the girl and faced Scorpius once more. He had since lowered his wand. She ran her fingers along the back of his hand. "I would treat you as my equals," she murmured. Thunder rumbled overhead as Scorpius clenched his jaw and nodded.

"_Think_ about what you're doing, Scorpius!" Lana cried over the pounding rain.

"Do calm down. Such public display of emotions is unseemly, Lana. It also certainly does not persuade me to share loyalties with _you_. Now," he drawled, his gray eyes narrowing, "it is a pity that you're both so hopelessly attached to him, else we could use you. Now, you may be stupid enough to try to kill one of us, but _both_? No. Not that stupid."

Henry let go of Alyssa as she squirmed, and she tore off to the side, a safe distance away. "Listen," he began, taking a breath and smiling. "If you're both in on it, fine. Maybe we'll see how it goes and help you guys out a little bit."

"That would have been nice, but unfortunately, we have no assurance that you won't go running off and snitch on us. I _really_ am sorry that it had to come to this." Contrary to his words, Scorpius looked no more sorry than Evlyn did.

"You can't kill us," Lana retorted, her eyes darkened with fury and something like fear. "He'll know then."

"What are you talking about, Lana?" Evlyn replied with utmost innocence. "You were killed in the crossfire."

The crashing thunder drowned out the spells, and Alyssa watched the acid green flashes in fascinated horror. The bodies hit the muddy path with a splashing _thud!_ And the two began walking away from it as if the corpses and what they had just done was of no concern to them.

--

Miles upon miles away, the Ministry of Magic was bustling with important wizards going about their business. Draco Malfoy was busy filing paperwork relative to internal affairs of sorts, along with notices that needed to be sent to aurors. Most of the time he worked from home, but that was accompanied by frequent trips to the offices. His hand was still wrapped up tight under layers of now off-white gauze, but the arm of his robe hung carefully over it. Of course he could have attempted his own healing spell, but an old part of him was wary of what Madeleine might do if he defied her.

"Mr. Malfoy," came the pleading voice of a small, hunch-backed man in tattered robes, "please. The Department for Underprivileged Wizards is running dry in their funds. It would be very much appreciated if you could do something."

Draco seemed completely ignorant of him as he flipped through the tabs on the manila envelopes and deposited a few thick packs of parchment inside. Finally, he turned his head to the man, who had narrowed his eyes at the other's initial reaction, or lack thereof. "If you stop sniveling at my feet, then _maybe_ I'll send something your way," he replied with more than a dollop of distaste.

The man turned away, but before he began walking, he said over his shoulder, "Your wife donated quite a lot for our efforts. I shouldn't even think you're one tenth of the human being she was." The man left, but Draco was shameless.

"Guess you're the same as ever, Malfoy," came an angry voice, and when Draco turned to see who it was (even though he already had an inkling). Harry Potter and his fanclub looked as though they had some important, saving the world business to attend to. Some things never changed. Draco attributed it to a mid-life crisis. "You could have sent some gold their way. The whole world knows you have sacks of galleons to spare."

"I _could_ have given them gold, but then I wouldn't have had the pleasure of disappointing them. You always have been an easy one to touch a nerve with. From the stories, I've heard Godric Gryffindor also had a temper that out-weighed his talent."

"Well, I guess it's better than being a traitor like Salazar Slytherin," Ron replied with venom.

"To each is their own. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to get done that does not involve anti-government activities and all the other acts held due to what many would call a midlife crisis. My suggestion? Grow up, Potter. I don't know what you lot are doing, but none of you ever excelled much at lying....or hiding things," he drawled, his eyes glinting as he turned around and began walking away with a hint of his old swagger. Little did the man know that Draco had heard of the organization's financial difficulties and so he had contacted the keeper's of his vault just last night. He did keep meticulous note of his wife's affairs since her death.

--

James strode forward with his wand out from the front of the pack, speaking to Theo, but looking at Blaine. "What's going on here? What is that?"

"I'm thinking something explosive, but I'm not sure. Blaine, why don't you try throwing it for us?" Theo replied, trying and failing to sound nonchalant, a strained smirk on his face.

Blaine glared at Theo and said, "You know, this really isn't the time. How about I throw it at _you_ and see how it goes?" He lifted up his arm if ever so slightly in aggravation, and a little click sounded as something attached to a string fell to the ground. The device began ticking.

"Blaine," James began briefly, "do not throw it yet. Tell me what's on it. Are those runes?"

"Yes, but if you ask me to translate, I'll have to decline. I'd rather keep my arm, if you don't mind." He was beginning to sound panicked. Theo reached into his satchel and pulled out a small device. "What is _that_?"

"A camera, you dolt," he replied derisively as he held it up to take a picture.

"I thought muggle devices didn't work if there was too much magic in the air," James said with his eyes narrowed in scrutiny.

"Well, it worked, so apparently there wasn't too much magic around. I'd throw that thing as far as possible, Blaine," but he was already ahead of him, turning to chuck it far away as soon as he could. Theo instantly dropped himself to the ground and covered his head and everyone else followed suit. An explosion that felt more like a wave of power blew over them and rained them with debris. The wind picked up as the sky started churning with storm clouds, all turning around a central point as dark as the deepest pocket of the universe.

--

Alyssa took a few running steps to catch up with Evlyn as her and Scorpius stepped over the bodies and began walking away. "Look, I appreciate what you did for me," she said, as if the bodies behind her didn't bother her, as if she didn't care at all what happened to all the others they left behind. She had to hide the relief she felt when she caught sight of them in a group over the other side of the hill.

"Don't mention it," she replied, pocketing her wand. "You helped me first."

"I know. I also know that you don't owe me anything now, but..."

"But what?"

"Can you teach me magic? Dark magic, I mean," she finished, as though completely sure of her request. Scorpius looked a little amused, but Evlyn stopped abruptly, looking unnaturally pale before forcing herself to smirk.

"Yeah, right. We'll see," she replied.

"I'm serious. Teach me."

"All in due time," she responded, turning back around as she continued walking.

--

The sky was swirling about above their heads like a certain type of galaxy seems to swirl around a central point, except faster, more accelerated. The sound was truly monstrous- uncontrolled and ear-splitting as the thunder came rumble after rumble, crack after crack. The lightning seemed to split the clouds apart in blazes of light against darkness, and Theo's hand rested against his knife uselessly. There was no fighting this.

None of the party looked at one another, all simultaneously and hopelessly mesmerized by the unnatural sky above. Movement seemed hopelessly inadequate; where should they run to? Why? But soon the sky cleared and the clouds seemed to spiral downward as if to form a tornado, except the top fell with them, and the sides spread out like a wave crashing into the ground.

The dark smoke washed over all of them then, but it didn't send them to cough or restrict their breathing. If anything, every person there felt lighter. When Theo reached his left hand forward to look at it, he caught his own breath. "James? What do you know about body-translucency? I'm losing opaqueness by the second. Should I be worried?"

"I don't know. Malfoy, dark magic wise, how does this seem to you?" James tossed his words over to Blaine, but they seemed distant now, like they were being half lost in the gusting wind.

"Very bad," Blaine responded. "Especially considering we have no idea where it's taking us." The sound grew louder, so he had to bring up his voice to the point where it hurt; he was shouting himself hoarse. "It's a portal, I think. They haven't been used since the war during the era of the founding four; it's all been hearsay since then. In the last war- and this one- the dark wizards have been trying to figure them out, but-" Then his voice faded with his body as the sky fell down upon them. As he did so, he was faced with the brief image of someone he didn't think he was going to be seeing again quite so soon.

--

Evlyn sighed as she brushed her hair back, narrowing her eyes in scrutiny at the darkening sky a little way off. "And here I thought the murky weather was just passing. Now a storm is forming just ahead of us. Beautiful, isn't it?" she began, with a trace of foul humor. She bent down to pick something up, something smooth and sharp. She held it up for Scorpius to see. "I wonder how long it's been since someone dropped this," she mused aloud, holding the slender blade by its hilt. "The metal isn't even dull, in shine or sharpness."

Scorpius shrugged as if it was no real concern to him, only the faintest interest visible in his cold gray eyes. "Those kinds of blades are charmed, usually, to protect the metal. There's been so much rain as of late, I wouldn't be surprised if a whole lot of old weaponry was unearthed. These barracks have been around since the middle ages, you know. Not that it's of any use to either of us. I know you have quite the artistic flair- however horrific- but now is no time for playing. You'll have plenty of opportunities for that later."

Evlyn looked down at Alyssa, only half-consciously toying with the weapon in her hand. "You don't have a wand, do you?"

"I wasn't exactly allowed one...," she replied with a shrug, her face going slightly red as she said so, as if the statement was embarrassing.

"We'll get you one, then," Evlyn responded, then handed the short sword over to Alyssa. "Until then, you'll have this. If you run into trouble, stab, don't slash; it's not that type of sword, and aim for the spine or neck. The heart is trickier than it looks."

"Evlyn," Scorpius breathed, his eyes darkening as he looked off to the distance. "That is not a storm. In fact, if we want to know where our little friends are going, then we should start running. Now."

Evlyn knew enough about the history of dark magic to get the idea of his observation, even if there was very little (or no) elaboration. However, she broke into a run behind him, and grabbed Alyssa by the arm as she did so. In 99 cases out of every 100, it was always better to go into a dangerous situation with a plan, but sometimes, the best plan was to act before you missed the only opportunity you would have for a good while. Especially when there were probably a good many people working on a plan to track you down and kill you, along with the fact that the people you _really_ had to keep an eye on were trapped in a portal with no hint of where it could have taken them.

And so they ran, straight into the thick, smoky fog, fading away into nothingness along with James, Theo, Rose, Blaine, and about a dozen angry convicts.


	9. Chapter 9

A younger Evlyn kicked her foot into the drywall behind her, forcing herself to smile in the mirror in front of her as the material folded beneath the sudden force. Her heel tingled from being used as a battering ram of sorts, and as she walked forward, her heel left traces of white soot on the carpeting. Her mood had been spiraling downward since she had come back to live with her parents. She clenched her fists as she jumped, belly first, onto her sheet-clad bed. There were no blankets and the room was freezing. She wasn't sure why; it was blazing outside.

Of course she would never complain, she thought as she rolled over onto her back, staring at her ceiling. To complain was to show weakness. Even to think that it bothered her was weak, and so she clenched her jaw as she followed the cracks in the ceiling. She should be entering her fourth year at Hogwarts. Should be. Being back under the care of her parents and those with close ties to the family, that should have been the first priority of them, and yet she hadn't been taken to get her books, nor was the topic even addressed.

They _wanted_ to send her to Durmstrang, but some people at the Ministry that they acquaintanced themselves with had some opposition, to say the least. Public views were everything to the Fauves. They needed to be credible to those in power, even if those people were good. It was impossible to aid the Dark Side only from said side. Evlyn knew this well, and yet she hated the pretenses. She rolled on her side and began tracing shapes in her sheets.

There was a creak outside her door. Through the space between the floor and the door itself, she saw a shadow. She leapt to her feet silently, crouching low, as if this could in some way aid her if something or someone potentially dangerous to her walked through.

The door knob turned without a knock, but the figure that strode through was familiar to her. Her shoulders relaxed, if ever so slightly. "My, my, little sister. Tense, aren't we?" came the taunting sing song, as the young woman drew back her hood, revealing pale skin and delicate features, hazel eyes and spiky dark hair. Without moving her gaze from Evlyn, she arched an eyebrow and said, "And kicking a hole through the wall made a difference to what?"

"I wanted to break something," she retorted, her eyes narrowing. The other girl was the closest thing to a parental figure she had, and she wasn't even _really_ her sister. Minus the almost affectionate feelings she had for the other, it didn't take away her annoyance. "There was nothing else to break in this room besides the walls."

The older girl closed the door behind herself, then turned right back around and smiled devilishly as she leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. "You always were too soft. If you don't harden up soon, I'm going to have to kidnap you from your mother and father. What are you going to do if they decide to dispose of their faulty weapon?" Her tone was joking, but her words held true. The danger was very real, but Carrie didn't seem to be taking this too seriously. To be honest, she didn't take much seriously. Although she looked young, she had been around a good many years. Evlyn never really cared much to ask.

"I'm _not_ soft," she snapped back, tilting her head forward as a shadow cast over her eyes.

"You thought I was a threat before I entered, but all you did was get to your feet. What were you planning on doing, tackling me? You could have pulled the cord from the ceiling fan to strangle me with- not that it would work- or even grabbed the lamp. You _should_ have stolen hairspray and a lighter from the last house you were at and kept them under your pillow, or even stolen an extra wand from someone, anyone, to use when you are not allowed your own. My, my, little sister. Am I _always_ going to have to watch your back? These are dangerous times, especially for your side. I'm only an ally because I have nothing else to do, and the good side doesn't really suit me. When I get bored, you'll be all alone. Be ready for that day, little sister," she continued, lowering her voice as the lids of her eyes half-closed lazily. She turned to go, but Evlyn was ahead of her. She blocked her path.

"No, Carrie. You just got here, then you insult me and leave? I'm not weak," she continued, her voice low as she looked up at the other. Her gaze was unwavering, but beneath her irate expression, it was evident that she truly did not want the other to leave.

"I heard what you did, Ev. You're weak to their wishes, to the idea of shame. I know it all too well, and I also know I'm not wrong. Don't try to deny it, because I don't really care, little sister. Kill because it is _your_ will, not theirs. And if they stand in your way," she continued, her voice lowering to a conspiring whisper, "if _anyone_ stands in your way, get rid of them. Don't forget who you are, my little sister," she reached out a hand to mess up Evlyn's hair, grinning when the kid grimaced and fought to fix it, "because you'll be greater than that."

The chaotic storm of a portal dropped them off in the middle of a large field encircled by a small stone wall off in the distance and specked with small cottages. The entire area seemed peaceful, but there was an underlying sense of unease at its emptiness. James began walking briskly off to one of the houses, without word or acknowledgement to the rest of them.

"Where are you going?" Rose called out to him, picking herself up as she ran after him.

"I need a fireplace," he replied.

Theo raised an eyebrow. "As if things couldn't get weirder right now...."

"He probably wants to talk to someone," Blaine responded without much more of a explanation.

"Right, that makes sense..."

Draco Malfoy pushed open the grand doors to his estate without even lifting a finger. Metaphorically speaking, that is. His wand arm was out, but that was all the effort that he actually put forth. The main room was furnished with expensive and very valuable antiquities, everything from the medieval to the Victorian eras. After that, his father once said, was quite pointless. Furniture only lost class.

His pale gray hair was longer, pulled back behind the nape of his neck by a thin cord of leather and fastened by a serpent. He walked past one of their decorative pieces (a fairly ruthless-looking torture mechanism that slowly stretched one from arms to legs) and into the dining room where his breakfast was ready. He sat down, not even looking up at the cook or the healer, Madeleine, as she stood with a slightly irritated but deeply concerned expression as she held the Daily Prophet.

"Have you seen this?" she asked with the sort of tone that might have been intimidating had Draco been 30 years younger.

"No," he replied without the least bit of concern, not even bothering to look up from his meal. "Why, are my stocks losing value?"

"Draco, look up from that meal, you filthy little blasted-end-!"

"_What_, Madeleine?!" he finally exclaimed with a bitter tone, his gray eyes darkening to a stormy color. She flipped it open so that the front page was showing. The headline read:  
"Sibling Rivalry?  
_The Malfoy Brothers caught on film, each on opposing sides. Or maybe...working together?"_

The images depicted showed them breaking people out of the fortress the Order of the Phoenix. One of which he recognized as Evlyn Fauve, the new Dark Lord's favorite killer- A tribute to the old Bellatrix Lestrange. The others were masses of people he faintly recognized from trials at the Ministry- all of whom had been found guilty of various crimes relating to not paying the taxes. Draco cursed at length and very fluently before suddenly standing up.

"What are you going to do, Draco?" she called after him as he grabbed his jacket and walked out the door. He didn't answer, and Madeleine sighed, pulling out her wand to wrap up the plate of food. No use wasting it.

Harry Potter looked into the fire place of his and Ginny's home, Neville, Hermione, and Ron all now standing behind him, Ginny beside him, and saw his son's face in the flames. They had been talking for a good five minutes so far, but it was very rapid. James wouldn't chance saying too much through the Floo network, nor would he chance staying so long that the others could catch them.

"Who's with you, at least?" Harry finally said, his voice somewhat strangled though he tried to keep himself composed.

"Blaine Malfoy, Theo Runner. We had previously employed them- when I was with the Order, I mean- as mercenaries. They almost got killed. I swear, dad, I didn't know it was this bad. And don't worry, Rose is fine too. She's here."

"Malfoy? Bloody _hell_. There's a Malfoy involved and you _didn't think it was that bad_?"

"Ron, this isn't the time," Harry interrupted through his teeth, then turned his attention back to James. "I believe you, son. Just promise that you'll stay safe and keep me informed."

"I'll do what I can, dad."

"And, as your uncle, promise me that you'll drop that Malfoy boy off a cliff the first chance you get."

"Personally, I think I'd like to drop Runner off a cliff first. I have to go. We don't have much time. Bye dad, I love you mum," and with that, he was gone.

"You'd like to drop me off a cliff?" Theo intoned with the faintest trace of amusement, leaning against the wall of the abandoned house lazily, his arms crossed over his chest. "That's not very nice..."

James ignored him, addressing them all. "We'll have help, but it will take some time. We need to keep moving. Otherwise, we'll all die."

"So, what's the plan, anyway?" Blaine asked derisively, not even bothering to hide his annoyance.

"We don't have one. We'll move randomly in one direction and do what we have to. Plans can be figured out, and we can't risk tha-" He looked like he was choking, and a white, vapory cloud seemed to be pulled from his body. It snapped through the wall as his body fell to the floor. Rose ran forward and put her fingers to his neck.

She looked up at Blaine and Theo. "There isn't any pulse," she said weakly, and the crowd of people all began murmuring, and soon the low whispers reached a cacophonous level.

"He isn't dead," Blaine whispered.

"What?" Rose said, turning, but tears were already brimming in her eyes for her cousin. She could barely hear him over the people. Theo pulled a knife off his belt.

"Shut _up_!" he shouted. "The next person to say _anything_ is going to be stabbed."

"He's lying," someone called out. "He just saved us; he wouldn't kill us."

"Not my idea. Try me. I dare you," he replied acidly, and after a pause, he turned back to Blaine.

"That was my father. I think. He's not dead. He should be back in a few minutes if everything goes right..."

"And if it doesn't?"

Blaine didn't respond.

"Well, Malfoy. I think your dad and my dad should have gotten together to go bowling."

Blaine eyed Theo for a moment in disbelief. How could he be taking the situation so lightly? Then he finally looked away, knowing it was pointless. Theo would always be Theo. His gaze returned to James where his body was lifeless on the floor, and to Rose... An apology rose to his lips, but he repressed it. What was he apologizing for? It wouldn't make a difference anyway.

Rose stood up to face him, her wavy red hair coming loose from its pony tail, her eyes red from spilled tears. "Is there any way to bring him back?"

"No," he responded evenly, his entire composure unflinching. "We just have to wait until my dad is done with him." His voice had lowered somewhat, and he quickly looked away from Rose's own gaze. For some reason, although irrational, he felt oddly guilty.

Just then he heard a crash at the door, and spun around with the practiced reflexes his job had granted him. The door then broke down as if its hinges had been evenly snapped and it landed on the ground with an ear-splitting _smack!_

"Well, well, well," came a taunting playful sound, a voice he had hoped he wouldn't have to hear again for a good long while. Could it be? He had thought he had seen her before they were portaled here, but then had attributed it to paranoia or lack of sleep. His imagination, maybe... "Now look who we have here." She stepped over the door, then paused for a second as she spied James' body, peering forward at him as she tilted her head to the side. "Who killed my Potter? I kind of wanted him alive for a couple moments, you know..."She sighed as though this was some mild grievance of hers, like some valuable item had just been smashed. Her eyebrows pulled together. "Would I be overstepping my boundaries if I asked what happened?" she inquired innocently.

Rose had spun around in a flash, her wand arm out and pointing at the other girl in rage. "Now isn't the time for games, you horrible bitch. You've caused enough tears with the people you've killed to disrupt this now."

Evlyn smiled without much mirth. "Tell me something I don't know... But you're with the Order, aren't you? Think about all the deaths you could have been responsible for without even knowing... Either you're incredibly stupid or incredibly deluded. Or maybe neither...," a grin spread across her face as she took a step closer. "Maybe you're even worse than I am..."

Theo rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes were glittering with something between annoyance and amusement. "Really, Weasley? Because I'm pretty sure he's only temporarily dead, so cut it out with the tears for five minutes. If he doesn't come back by then, then you can bawl your eyes out for all I care." He then wheeled on Evlyn. "You have five minutes before I kill you myself, you pathetic little girl. I'm really sick of witnessing your games."

Blaine opened his mouth to say something, feeling suddenly defensive for Rose. Theo _was_ incredibly insensitive when it came to death. Then he stopped himself. The fact was that no one was _actually_ dead. Then again, it wasn't like Rose had done more than tear up for a few moments anyway. She had to toughen up in times like these. Even losing it for those few moments could mean death.

Then he turned his gaze to Evlyn, who had come in and taunted her about losing someone near and dear. Her eyes seemed focused on Theo now, a smile curling her lips. She looked like a cat playing a particularly sadistic game with a mouse as she leaned her head to one side, allowing her dark, loosely curly hair to fall over her one shoulder. "Would you really hit a girl? I thought the good guys didn't do those kinds of things..."

Theo's response began with a derisive snort as he looked down and shook his head, running his fingers back through his hair. "Who said anything about hitting?" he replied, looking up. He ignored the good guy comment, but Blaine knew that it was the sort of thing that would bother him to no end. He smirked at her, fiddling with one of his knives in his hand. Scorpius advanced so that he was partially in front of her, but Evlyn herself didn't seem to look too threatened.

"Getting a bit cocky, half breed?" Scorpius hissed, his gray eyes glinting as he drew his wand. Blaine advanced with his own, holding it level at his brother. "Fratricide isn't looked too keenly upon in any society, dear brother. Put your wand down and join us, already."

Blaine gritted his teeth as he looked at Scorpius with blatant distaste. His hatred was unmistakable. "And act like I'm someone I'll never be? No thank you," he replied acidly. His older brother's eyes narrowed as they flashed under the dim light.

"You're a Malfoy, and running around with filth will never change that," he replied viciously, his voice lowered. Evlyn put a hand gently on his outstretched arm, easing him to lower his wand.

"Oh, but to be honest, we both came here on purely diplomatic terms. But in order to tell you of my proposition, we'll have to wait until James comes to...," she intoned softly, her mockery of innocence doing little aside from infuriating Blaine.

* * *

A woman in her mid thirties with wavy dark hair walked up a gravel path, toward a manor that loomed in the distance. The rocks crunched under her plain leather shoes, and she could almost feel them through the worn soles. She took a turn before reaching the manor and continued her walk over the perfectly cut lawn, with only one last backward glance at the manor. The window-panes were diamond, she'd heard. Some might think that it was done in an almost obsessive desire to be overtly opulent, but she had her own theories. Dark families were incredibly paranoid, and a simple diffindo could hardly even scratch diamond.

The grass gave off an ethereal glow, and out of the corner of her eye she saw a sudden movement of white. Practically leaping to the side and drawing her wand while doing so, she turned for a better look. It was only one of the white peacocks. Many people feared the Malfoys, but Alexandria found them more odd than anything.

With that thought in mind, she felt a sudden, sharp pain in the top of her foot. When she looked down, her eyes were met with a tiny pixie with razor sharp teeth. It was something that could have been beautiful, had there not been blood on its mouth. She cursed. Normal wizarding families had garden gnomes; the Malfoys had fairies.

Up ahead was the stable, and the horses' nickering brought her heart up. Like most animals in the wizarding world, they were bred to have certain magical qualities. They were all relatively basic, like swiftness or quietness. Oftentimes when she was out here, one of them would be right behind her and she would not have even heard them approach. Of course, that was all gone now. She didn't regret it, but she missed the horses. Incredibly rare and carefully bred, they were just the sort of animal that would be found on a wealthy estate.

She approached a large bay, lying her hand against its nose as she murmured to him. It wasn't the words that were uttered, especially with horses, but the way one said them. And so she whispered incoherent fragments of thoughts in an affectionate tone, because if there was one thing that this estate was short in, it was love. It was probably also the only thing. It was only a few moments before she heard the pad of footsteps behind her. She let her arm drop, visibly cringing as she awaited words.

"You shouldn't be out here, Alexandria," came an older voice, shaking if ever so slightly from age. Alexandria didn't respond; what could she possibly say? 'Oh, I forgot something, and decided to take a detour around the grounds.' "But Draco isn't home anyway. Would you like to come in for some tea?"

"Where is he?"

* * *

The five of Dumbledore's Army were all quite surprised to hear the a knock at the door. All of them looked amongst themselves, and all of them pulled out their wands to hold at the ready. Harry strode forward, opening the door. The form which met their gaze sent a sudden quiet between them, deeper and more solid than the quiet that had preceded it. "Hello Malfoy," he finally greeted, stepping back to invite him in, but his gaze was wary.

Draco nodded curtly in response. "So I would assume that you have contact with your son," he finally said, looking over the modest living room with visible distaste.

"What's it to you?" he replied, brushing past his childhood nemesis to stand beside his wife. Draco pulled a rolled up paper from the pocket of his robes.

"Have you seen the Daily Prophet lately? One of my sons- the only one that I have faintly an idea of how to contact- is with yours."

"I just spoke to him. Blaine is fine."

"Well, if you just spoke to him, it's not too late then. What do you know of the werewolf they're romping around with?" he continued, his eyes narrowed at the lot, but he seemed perfectly at home in his ways.

Harry didn't respond, only glared. He instantly remembered Lupin, but not the happy memories he had. He remembered seeing his body beside Tonks at Hogwarts during that final battle. Now here was Draco, talking down about werewolves as though they didn't have a place in this world.

"Oh, that's right. You've had plenty of experience running around with werewolves, haven't you? I'd forgotten," and although his words were malicious, he too remembered what the Dark Lord had done. He remembered the very day that Voldemort had made Bellatrix promise to 'weed out' and 'prune' her family tree.

"What's not too late, Malfoy?" Harry finally snapped, his gaze sharp and his tone serrated.

"I'm going to ask you this once, and only once, because quite frankly, I plan on doing it anyway. My son's life is at stake, and your son was the last spoken to in this house. Your son is the only connection that I have to my son. _Rapere Mortalis_. I don't know if it's something that Gryffindors-"

"You want to seize his _soul_...?" Hermione interjected, just looking incredulously at Draco. "That's very advanced dark magic."

"No," Harry said with finality. "Find some other way."

"Oh, but, Potter. I already told you that this _was_ the only way. I was just being polite," Draco continued, his eyes glittering maliciously.

Ginny made a sound of protest. "Harry. His son is involved too. We should at least try to figure something out." Definitely not what Harry was expecting her to say. He still remained adamant.

"If I trusted you, Malfoy, it would be a different story. But I don't trust you, and I do think that you would let my son become a corpse if it meant even finding out a little bit about your own son."

Draco looked completely unperturbed. He had acquired a certain disaffected composure from his father. "It's true; I would. Luckily for you, it's in my son's best interests that _your_ son stays alive."

There was a moment of silence in which Harry and Draco just stared evenly at each other. Harry finally nodded, to muffled sounds of protest from Ron and Neville. He pointed his wand at the fireplace and a sudden wind gusted from it, but it was not warm like one would expect to come from a fire, nor was it cold. It felt more soft, if air could feel such a way, and then it felt suddenly and very uncomfortable, as though it sent a thousand needles prickling under one's skin.

And then the translucent form of James appeared in Harry Potter's living room. "How did I get here?" he began, looking utterly and thoroughly confused, then he looked down at himself, and when it registered that he wasn't solid... "Where is my body?" He looked desperately at his father, but he only looked back blankly before he finally spoke.

"It's alright, son. You'll be back in a minute," he finally managed to choke out. This was far too unreal to see.

Draco just looked annoyed. "Do try not to panic. It makes things more difficult."

"Don't _panic_?! Are you bloody _kidding_ me?" he finally roared desperately, glaring at his parents. Why in Merlin's name would they allow this to happen? Then finally the anger subsided. He just wanted his body back. Now. And that meant cooperating.

"Where's my son?" Draco finally asked after it seemed the boy's temper tantrum had ended.

"In the living room in an abandoned room _Merlin knows where_. We got caught in a portal that we _think_ was from when Salazar Slytherin went mental."

"Blaine should be able to tell you. Is he safe?" he continued. If Draco was feeling any sort of emotions, he wasn't letting them show or hinder him in any way.

"As far as I know. As safe as he can be, I guess. On the up side, no one could have followed us."

"What about Scorpius?" Draco interrogated.

"Last we saw him, he was with those two followers and that mental girl who kills people," James replied acidly.

"If Blaine dies, I hold you liable," and with that, he flicked his wand and James' soul vanished from the room. "Good day, Potters." He left the room without any further word.

* * *

Alyssa was sitting outside where Evlyn and Scorpius had left her, trying desperately not to cry. Her eyes were burning as she tried to suppress her tears, but they finally filled her eyes, and then she wiped them away with the back of her shirtsleeve in a frustrated manner.

Tears were a sign of weakness, weren't they? Evlyn wouldn't cry. Evlyn was far too strong, and people feared her, and that's what Alyssa wanted. It was, wasn't it? She could take fear in place of love, because she was far too afraid that no one would ever love her. There it was again.

Again.

Fear.

She didn't want to feel fear, didn't want to feel weakness or sadness or guilt or grief or anything. All she wanted was power, and she could get that this way, or at least be protected by it. Evlyn would protect her. She sighed and shook her head, sniffling as she dropped her forehead into her hands. She was young, but she knew enough to know that Evlyn would also use her.

She didn't want to be used; she just wanted to live. Without fear. She wanted to live without fear. She tried something then, tried to separate the fear from her being, envision it being pulled out of her, like her emotions were an entirely separate body from her own. It worked, but only for a moment. Then she was right back where she started.

"Scary lot, they are," an older man said, walking out to where she was, but he stood a safe distance away and didn't look at her. "You okay, kid?"

Alyssa didn't say anything. He sounded like he was Scottish. She wanted to respond, but she couldn't think of anything to say.

He didn't seem put off by it, really. He let the silence sit, content to overhearing the conversation occurring inside. There was the arrogant, older boy. The one who sounded like he was American, the werewolf. He was threatening just about all of them, Evlyn was instigating him, Scorpius was being snide and horrible. Alyssa didn't get the feeling that the man cared for the situation much, and might have caught something that sounded very much like, "_Little arrogant gits are practically teenagers._"

"I used to have a daughter, you know," he finally said, but he only said it like he had to, like if he didn't it would be horrible. He didn't say it like he wanted to say it, nor did he say it with the most conversational tone.

Alyssa was at a loss for words, before finally asking in a small voice, "What happened to her?" What else could she possibly say? Maybe a part of her wanted to know more, but a bigger part of her didn't.

"They took her away from me when she was two years old. Her mother had died in childbirth, and I... Well I didn't want her to grow up in what our world was turning into. I staged riots; I spoke out. But this was over a decade ago. Useless for you to know, and after all, there's no reason to depress you."

"Did you ever try to look for her?" she finally asked, looking up at him and knowing, with more than an ounce of shame, that her eyes were red from crying.

He looked down, then back up. His face had gone tight, and his skin pale. He looked more deeply ashamed than Alyssa had ever seen. "I never wanted to see what they turned her into. And, Merlin forgive me, I never looked."

"You should look," Alyssa said, shocked at how earnest she sounded. "She might not have turned out as badly as you think."

Before he even had a chance to respond, Evlyn's head and torso appeared in the doorway as she leaned out, grabbing Alyssa's arm. She didn't even look at the man standing there, like he was nothing more than an insect, just an insignificant detail to the setting. "C'mon, kid. James is awake and Blaine thinks I killed you and buried you in the field."

The room was almost blinding compared to the darkness outside, and Alyssa had to blink to readjust her eyes. If Evlyn had noticed that Alyssa looked as though she had been crying, she didn't remark on it.

"Are you happy, Blaine, dear?" Evlyn intoned, batting her eyelashes as though the motion could be sardonic. And on her, it could. "She's in one piece for now." Alyssa looked up at her quickly. Maybe too quickly. She was kidding, right? "Relax," she muttered to Alyssa. "I'm not gonna kill you."

"While in _your_ presence?" he replied sourly. "Never."

Theo looked moderately annoyed, and finally sat on a rickety old table. It supported him, despite its apparent age. "So, kid... What's your name?"

"Alyssa," she said evenly, sounding much stronger now that she was standing between two very powerful and dark wizards. "And yours?"

"Theo, but that's not the point. Why do you want to hang out with two scary murderers?" he finally said, but he wasn't looking at her. His eyes were trained on a knife that he was holding in his hands. It didn't need to be cleaned any more than it already was, so she assumed he had been having at it for quite some time.

When Alyssa didn't respond, Evlyn sighed. "She _asked_ me to teach her dark magic, so don't start questioning her motives. It's apparent that her alliances don't align with yours."

"Great," Theo replied, looking up and smiling at Evlyn. "Blaine can teach her."

"I am _not_ teaching anyone dark magic," Blaine snapped in sudden anger.

"Good, because you'd be a lousy teacher, anyway," Scorpius responded with a sly smirk.

Rose was sitting off to the side with James, who appeared very tired and very pale. "He needs chocolate," Blaine finally said. "And if there were ever a matter of life or death that concerned chocolate, this would be it."

"Yeah, because I carry Hershey Park around in my back pocket," Theo said dryly, suddenly slamming his dagger into the wood table beside him in frustration. It never helped to have someone on your side almost dying. Especially not when you were bantering back and forth with the enemy. Things usually get messy fairly quick.

Blaine shot Theo an annoyed look. "You're not helping, you git."

"Why would you _ask_ to be taught to kill people?" Theo asked the girl, turning his attention back to her. "Don't get me wrong; I love what I do, but when I was your age, I didn't exactly ask my dad to be like, 'Guess what, boy? You're gonna be bait tonight,' and then toss me into a vampire nest." He paused. "And I know that sounds weirdly bird-like, but it was actually just an old mansion," he added as an afterthought.

Evlyn rolled her eyes, ignoring his adamant questioning of Alyssa. "Someone hand me something that I can transfigure into chocolate so we can get out of here...?"

Scorpius eyed Evlyn. "You were moderately lousy in Transfiguration. Maybe I should do it."

Blaine laughed hollowly. "Yeah. You meant to transfigure my pet hamster into a snake and only changed the first half of the body, so it was constantly trying to chase itself around until it finally realized, after almost eating its hind end, that it was eating _itself!_"

Scorpius opened his mouth to say something, then shut it. "Why father let you have so many vermin is beyond me. Always with the hamsters and the guinea pigs. Why couldn't you have been normal and had a pet dog?" he finally said snidely.

"Like your snakes were _so_ normal. And the way that you spoke to them! It was like they were puppies or something," he replied, becoming really quite heated. Rose stood up from where she was sitting.

"I'll do it. I don't trust either of you, anyway," she said, looking pointedly at Evlyn and Scorpius.

Alyssa sat silently, feeling very much as though she was a child. Maybe it was just the way Theo spoke to her. He wasn't quite an adult himself; at least he didn't act like it, but he spoke to her like she was only a child. He was right, probably. He was probably almost ten years older than she, but a stubborn part of herself resented being treated as though she were inexperienced and stupid. And what was that bit about a vampire nest? She'd have to ask Evlyn.

A couple seconds later, James seemed much more alert, a piece of chocolate in his hand. He broke another piece off and ate it. "Tastes like someone mixed some Pine in, Rose," he vocalized with a sly look. She looked faintly offended, but grinned when she realized he was more healthy. "I'm just kidding, you know. It's fine."

"At least I actually spent time _learning_ what father paid good money for us to learn rather than reading that muggle trash, Shakespeare," she heard Scorpius continue from the other side of the room. Their voices had grown more elevated. "Then again, you never were much of a fighter, which is all the more interesting why you chose this profession..."

"I wanted to make a difference, unlike you. All you've ever cared about was yourself!" Blaine finally shouted angrily.

Theo looked amused, but that might have been because Blaine so rarely ever lost his temper. James stood up after regarding Alyssa thoughtfully, and handed her the remainder of his chocolate bar. "I was only kidding, if you heard earlier. It tastes nothing like a piece of wooden table."

Alyssa's hunger won over her pride. "Thanks," she muttered. She looked Evlyn, but the other didn't seem to care. She was observing the growing argument between the two Malfoys with an arched eyebrow and her arms crossed over her chest.

"That's romanticism, Blaine. Maybe you should do as Romeo did and poison yourself for all the good _that_ will get you."

"If he's Romeo, I'm Mercutio," Theo added brightly, acting as if he was completely unaware of the tension in the room. He was though; the only time he ever acted bright or cheerful was when things were tense.

"Only if I can be Tybalt for just _one scene_," Scorpius finally intoned with some disdain.

"What, you've read the 'muggle trash'? Interesting," Theo responded with a bored measure of nonchalance. "I can hate you even more for hypocrisy."

Evlyn smiled poisonously. "Oh, Shakespeare, what fun! Well, now we need a Juliet..." Her eyes fixed upon Rose and then they widened as if from sudden realization. "Of course, Rose! She seems the sort to stab herself if the love of her life were to tragically poison himself after thinking she was dead when she wasn't. Oh dear, that was a mouthful..."

"What about it, Weasley?" Scorpius began cruelly. "Star crossed love? My brother? Too bad I'd have to kill you both. Can't have blood-traitors ruining our family lines."

Rose turned bright red, and Alyssa looked down, immediately feeling awful for the other girl. "You're pathetic, Malfoy. Completely pathetic. I hope the both of you can say what you wanted to fast. James is fine now... So just... Say what you came here to say, and then get out of our sight."

The look that Evlyn was giving her could have been called lightly as one of disgust. Where Blaine saw Rose's reaction as one of civilized humanity, Evlyn was disdainful, like the way she reacted was one of weakness. This was hardly true, as Rose was one of the strongest people that Blaine had ever met, and James often said that his father stated she got it from her parents. "Right," Evlyn began simply, very businesslike compared to her earlier demeanor. Blaine noted how Theo's eyes narrowed at the girl as she shifted once again with how she was expressing herself, as if she was a dozen different people wrapped up into one. "Well we all know something is wrong, in everything. Currently, we have the same aims. The Ministry and the Order are both corrupt, and the Dark Lord is no friend of ours. I'm giving you the offer to work this us."

The first one to react at all was Blaine, who laughed hollowly. "The _offer_? More like eternal damnation. How many karma points do you think we'd lose if we accepted your offer?"

"How many karma points do you think we have right now, Blaine?" Theo replied nonchalantly from where he was looking really quite bored, his eyes focusing on the knife he had in his outstretched hand. It glinted in the light, his eyes giving off a glint of their own from behind the shadow that was cast over his eyes. His tone had been slightly derisive, but not by much, as if he didn't care much either way.

"The half-breed speaks sense," Scorpius drawled coldly, sneering at him, but Theo only responded with a serene smile with the likeness of arsenic and honey.

Blaine ignored this, his gaze still even with Evlyn, and Evlyn could read every line of distaste and thorough disgust in his expression. "This is her plan to stage a coup d'tat and over throw ever major power in this government and rule over it herself. She told me."

Evlyn cleared her throat, looking very much like she wanted to decapitate the first person to get close enough. "I can protect them," she said simply. "You know as well as I do that the Order is out for all of them, just like the Ministry. I can't imagine what sort of horrors they reserve for escaped convicts, however petty their crimes."

James shook his head. "No," he stated. "We're not working with you. I'd rather feed myself to the Giant Squid."

"Too bad the Giant Squid is a long way off. I'd liked to have seen that," Scorpius replied sourly, making no effort to hide his thorough dislike of the other. Being hexed in the hallways just because of his last name hadn't made him so keen on the older Potter. Okay, so he had been a right git most of the time, but he wasn't about to admit that. He wouldn't even admit it now.

"So is this the ultimatum?" Rose intoned now, walking forward and standing right in front of Evlyn. "It's really rich that you think we'd _ever_ stoop so low as to work with you. What, you don't think that we can take care of ourselves? We won the last war, and we'll win this one."

Evlyn smiled at her impishly, although she was greatly annoyed at the sudden proximity. "And here I thought that _we_ were the ones stooping. You only won the last war because love was the answer. Too bad it's not so this time around. You're going to _lose_ without us, because only one of you can actually make hard decisions, and it seems to me that he doesn't even want to work on your side, and probably wouldn't if it weren't for Blaine Malfoy."

Theo feigned sudden interest as his attention visibly peaked. "Oh, was that a compliment I heard?"

"Well, the other problem is that Potter wants to drop him head first off a cliff and he doesn't do anything happily unless he's paid or there's a great deal of violence. Isn't that right, Theo?" Blaine finally said lightly, but it was obvious that he had to force himself to be so. Underneath his skin, he was seething.

"Very," Theo responded. "That comment hurt me very deeply, James."

"Do you want to know what hurt me? The Malfoys' dad ripping my soul out of my body because he's having a panic attack," he replied with a measure of sarcasm, it becoming evident that his temper was fraying. Theo looked completely unabashed. Blaine looked away, but to this Scorpius smirked, like it was a point to be proud about. Maybe it was; maybe it wasn't. It wasn't as though he had seriously hurt James. "And, besides," James continued, "we can make hard decisions. I'm just not about to sacrifice masses of people to get something done."

Evlyn's eyes met his. "Who said anything about masses of people? I was just talking about three high-profile assassinations," she replied coolly. "You can't say they don't deserve it."

"I can't say you don't deserve it either, now can I?" James replied sourly, his dark eyes boring into hers.

"So get rid of me after it's done," she responded viciously, but it was a calm sort of vicious like the low growl of an animal preparing to attack. It was more challenging than anything else.

James shook his head. "No. Don't get me wrong. I'd like anything more than to do so, but then I wouldn't be any better than you."

"You already aren't," Evlyn said acidly. "You're going to lead these people on aimlessly, and the only difference that it will have to a mass-suicide is that it won't be intentional. Let me help you. If not for your sake, then for theirs." Her tone had softened along with her expression, and, for a moment, she looked _sincere_.

"Don't do it, Potter," Blaine snapped from behind him. "She's a mental case. She lies like she breathes."

Evlyn's one eyebrow arched, but there was no mistake that the softened expression was gone. Her mouth was all hard lines, almost statuesque in such appearance. "Oh?" she intoned, but there was an underlying edge. "When did I lie? That is, if you'd like to share with us."

Blaine blanched for a moment. Come to think of it, he couldn't recall any particular time she lied, per se. Maybe it wasn't the lying. "You pretend to be someone you're not," he finally settled on. "You never act like who you really are."

Unexpectedly, this sent Evlyn to laugh. It was a bright ringing sound, as though she really were honestly amused, rather than just laughing to be harsh or facetious. "Who doesn't? Mental case, check. Murderess, check. Sadistic, double check. Liar? Oh, no. Not unless I have to."

"So is this you trying to take over the Ministry of Magic?" he asked, advancing in front of James, but they let him.

"No," she replied softly. "This is me trying to take over more than just the Ministry of Magic. But honestly, all those politicians are liars and murderers. They just don't get their hands dirty; they have someone else do it for them. And anyone in here who wants to live would be wise to not oppose me, because the longer they're all in power, the longer you'll all have kill tags next to your names."

Blaine was stony faced as James shook his head. "No," the Potter boy finally said. "Sorry. I'd rather die than make deals with you."

"You Potters and Weasleys really _should_ learn to think with your heads rather than your hearts, or whatever it is you use," Scorpius drawled, leaning against the wall of the house, then peered distastefully at the wall over his shoulder. He straightened up again, as though he'd rather deal with discomfort than potentially dirty his clothing.

Evlyn turned around and walked to the door, Alyssa following at her heels. She stopped short, almost causing the girl to bump into her at its suddenness. "Anyone who _doesn't_ want to die with this lot can come with us. I promise we don't bite," she called softly, and then she was out of the building, Her, Alyssa, and Scorpius had all disappeared into the night, leaving a rather uncomfortable crowd in their wake. A few of them were looking between themselves, waiting for someone to follow so that they too would have the permission to leave.

Then, one by one, the crowd of ex-convicts began dissipating, leaving only about half left in the small building. No one moved to stop them or say anything to make them think more rationally; they were all too shocked.

"I can't believe I just got called one of the good guys...," Theo intoned with a mild look of irritation. "I hate not being the bad guys."

There were a million and one reasons why Theo could not care about the situation and hardly even cared much about himself. His whole life had revolved around endlessly fighting and killing anything dangerous enough that he could get away with it. There was nothing he regretted in life, well, nothing but one thing. The only thing he regretted was leaving Tem, but he knew it was the only way it could possibly be. He didn't want her to be harmed or killed because of him. Was that wrong? To walk out on someone in order to protect them? Or should those people have the choice?

He knew what she'd say. It was her decision, ultimately. And how could he know she was truly safe? No one was truly safe. Like he could have her covered from across the Atlantic. Like he could really know...But how could he honestly find out now? The odds of her telling him the truth were slim, and he doubted she wanted much to do with him. He left her, probably when she needed him most.

But he had his enemies, and he didn't want her caught in the crossfire. Now he was just a side-pawn in a war that had nothing to do with him. He rejected being half-wizard. His mother had tried, Merlin knew, but she didn't want to be overbearing, and he was more stubborn than his father. More stubborn, but less hard-headed, and he was never _hateful_. Spiteful, maybe, and resentful, oh, and rude, but he wasn't his father. His father had only taught him to hate himself.

A part of him knew that the only way to win this battle was for them to sacrifice their pride, but he didn't care enough about their battle or their lives to say this. A small part of him rejected this statement. He'd be a pretty lousy friend if he didn't even care about Blaine's neck.

"Smart move, guys," he finally said, throwing his knife down into the wood of the table once more with a _thud!_ "You could have used them to get it done."

"Two wrongs don't make a right, Runner," James sighed, brushing his hair back. He had been growing ever more uncomfortable with the given situation, but he wasn't about to fold and kill anyone. There had been enough death, hadn't there?

Theo's eyes narrowed at him considerably. "I think that the ends justify the means, in this case. All is fair in war."

"There _is_ a such thing as war crimes," James retorted. "So I don't think that _all_ is fair."

"I wasn't planning on killing any children. I mean, there can even be trials for them if you want. Just as long as they're rigged trials. Face it, all of you are royally screwed over unless you act, and you have just about nothing compared to three very powerful leaders. Zip, zilch, nada." He stood up and walked closer, only to lean his back against the corner of two walls. He looked completely at ease, although maybe slightly annoyed as well. "What's _your_ plan anyway?"

"And here I thought you said this had nothing to do with you," James replied with more than a little bit of malice. If there was one way to get a genuine rise out of the Potter, Theo had done it. As far as he was concerned, assassinations were not an option until all other alternatives were ruled out. "Until we know that there _is_ no other option," he continued on imperatively, "no one is going to die. We will fight only to protect ourselves, and that's all. If you don't like this and would rather be slaved out by a couple dark wizards that just left, well then by all means, please leave now. But if you stay here, then we are going to do _everything_ within our power to end this diplomatically, and only do otherwise if there is truly no other option."

Theo shook his head and began walking to the door, then seemed to remember something and turned around. He made his way over to the table where he pulled the blade out of its top. He fingered the notch it made before turning to address Blaine. "Are you staying?" he asked, tonelessly, and Blaine had nodded. Theo turned around, seemingly without another word. He paused at the threshold of the door. "You're all going to get yourselves killed, but it was nice knowing you."

Blaine watched his form disappear into the darkness, feeling more like a traitor than he supposed he should have. What was he supposed to do, go running after him and try to beat some sense into him? What good was that when he was already making sense? Besides, Theo was fine on his own. Wand or no wand, magical skill or no. He never seemed to want to know anything about how to use magic, had never embraced it. He had always just seemed cold and indifferent to its existence, seemed to hardly care that this was something he shared with his mother.

"So, what's the plan, Potter?" Blaine asked.

"So far? Not to fraternize with the enemy," he responded shortly, his eyes intense as though daring anyone else to leave.

* * *

Theo walked out into the darkness of the night, catching a glimpse of silver blond hair and a small peal of laughter from his right. If he were the shuddering type, he probably would have, but he was too tough for that. Or, at least that's what he would like to think. Either way, to him, her laughter sounded more like nails on a chalkboard or something equally distasteful. It didn't help that the entire situation had him on edge.

More than anything, he missed how it used to be. He had never particularly cared for hunting as a younger kid, and quite frankly, it scared the hell out of him for a lot of the earlier years. If he shut his eyes, he could still remember the feeling of panic, but as the years went on, killing monsters and inhuman creatures had just become rhythmic and second nature, like breathing. Without it, he was constantly antsy and stressed. His body seemed to be prepared for something out of the ordinary, but nothing came.

The politics of the whole situation inside wasn't helping things. He was not equipped to cope with those situations, nor did he know how. His first impulse had been to try to knock some sense into them, but after a little bit more thought, he had decided that was generally unwise. Half blood or no, he still had never gone to school or learned how to use magic. He had repressed it so much for so long, he hardly thought he would be able to practice magic if he tried. Maybe the more he pushed something away, the weaker it became, until it just wasn't there anymore.

"Lost your way, puppy?" Evlyn finally said, acknowledging his presence with a sickly sweet, melodically taunting tone. It wasn't until then that Theo realized he was rooted to the spot, no longer walking. His eyes narrowed at her, her one arm dangling to the side like a soft, posed doll or a puppet, her wand balancing lightly from the tips of her fingers. There was an empty look in her eye like her thoughts were detached from her body, or her soul was gone from her, like she repressed it for too long, letting it become weaker and weaker until it just wasn't there anymore, just like his magic. "So where are you going now? Back to New York or wherever it is you're from?"

Theo scoffed, shaking his head. "New Jersey. I _can_ drive, you know." He briefly wondered if the joke was lost on the audience, and Scorpius's eyes narrowed at him with irritated confusion. Well, that was a pompous one. Evlyn smirked, her body slightly twisted as her one shoulder was balancing her angled frame against the tree.

"That's comforting," she breathed airily. "Wouldn't want you to die in any car accidents. _That_ would be a sore loss for mankind." She paused, her face lighting up with a mischievous air, a new glint in her eye. "Tell me, do you think James would care? I don't think so. He doesn't seem to like you. What about Blaine? I doubt he'd care as much about your neck as you care about his. Surprisingly, you're loyal..., but I guess that comes with the territory. No pun intended."

He clenched his fists repeatedly, trying to resist the temptation to do something rash. His eyes flicked over to Scorpius, and he briefly wondered how long it would take for him to kill her before he'd be tortured or killed himself. _Get a grip,_ he thought to himself, but the restraint was agonizing. "If your pun wasn't intended, then you didn't need to say it. If you meant to say a pun, then you also didn't need to say it. Following?" he replied, trying to get his legs to start walking again, but something was stopping him. He was walking away again, away from everything. At the very least he didn't have to walk away from this spot, but _oh, how he wanted to._

"Do you ever shut your mouth?" Scorpius finally said with a scowl. His looks were very close to Blaine's, except sharper. He was the sort of man that could be very intimidating, even without being burly.

"Very rarely. Do you ever change facial expressions?" he replied with a feigned smile and a sarcastically polite tone. Admittedly, it wasn't the best comeback, but to his defense, nothing else seemed to come to mind. That, and whenever he saw Scorpius, he was scowling or looked rather sour. The brief changes to smirks here and there were easily missed.

And before he knew it, the other had advanced with his wand arm outstretched. As if on cue, Theo pulled out one of his throwing knives and the way he stood was one of action. His eyes were fixed on Scorpius, waiting for any telltale sign of what he was about to do.

"You should learn a little respect, you half blood filth," Scorpius spat with impressive gusto. His eyes seemed fiery, if pale gray eyes could ever look such a way. Theo had an urge to roll his eyes, but repressed it. The constant insults regarding his blood was really getting tiresome.

"My father tried that. Didn't work out so well," he replied without much discernible excitement. In so many words, he sounded bored, but in actuality, his blood was pumping and his fingers were clasping the hilt of the blade so tightly that the pads of his fingers would probably be bruised. If this went down, it would not go down well. He knew this; he was not naïve, but he wasn't about to let his enemy see that.

"Obviously not. Any father who lacks the decency to disown or get rid of a werewolf son..."

Theo opened his mouth to respond, but then shut it. He didn't even know how to respond to that. For the first time in a long time, he was lost for words.

"Cat got your tongue?" Evlyn chipped in with a grin, then paused, adding for good measure: "Pun intended that time."

"Did your perfect, pathetic muggle father disappoint you? Did you stop bonding when you were out chasing after vampires and werewolves or whatever it is that I have heard...?" he continued, mocking cruelly.

"Yeah," Theo replied stiffly. "He was the perfect father. Then he disappointed me, so I killed him and buried his body in the woods. And don't even bother asking me if it bothers me, because it doesn't. He was dragging me down, and now that I'm without him, I don't have to just kill vampires and werewolves anymore. I could run around on full moons and even feed on people like you if I wanted to." It was a tangle of truth and lie, but mostly lie. Scorpius didn't know this, though Evlyn might have been more enlightened to his past. He didn't know or didn't remember, and didn't feel it in him to bother trying to figure it out. "Your turn, Scorpius. Would you be as ready to fight me if you didn't have a wand?"

"_Duel?_ Like you would do the same without your knives."

Theo seemed to deliberate this for a few moments, then finally nodded. "Yeah, actually, I probably would anyway. I have no aversion to punching your face in."

* * *

**Credits:**

Bowling line: The Breakfast Club.

"I hate not being the bad guys."  
-Kyra from the Chronicles of Riddick. One of my favorite characters of all time, ever. :3

A/N: Eh. Sloppily put together, but I post the chapters in sections, and sometimes I switch up character point of views. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 3


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